The Adventures of Merlin
by syfygal
Summary: *Previously named the Kindness of Kings!* A series of 'What if' one shots based on Merlin's adventures. Taking YOUR requests now. First chapter, AU on 5x10 - The Kindness of Strangers. What if... Arthur pursues Merlin after he sneaks away from camp and catches up with him, only to see the dreaded arrow stuck in the boy's side...
1. Kindness of Kings

**A/N: **

This little idea popped into my head while dropping off to sleep. A series of one – two shots covering 'what if's' of Merlin, and I want YOU to send me your idea's! I am good with most genres, so feel free to review or PM me with your 'what if.' (Original ideas also welcome!) The only thing I steer WELL clear of is male/fem slash. I am not judgemental or homophobic; in fact I embrace other people's choices. I just can't WRITE about it (The boys are too much of brothers in my eyes for that kind of pairing)

I will make the first move. First review/PM request gets the next chapter, and so forth! Said Author will receive special mention!

And don't worry, I am still working on 'The Blood Spell,' Chapter 3 will be up soon

Oh, and I don't own Merlin =[

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**The Kindness of Kings**

**CHARACTERS: **Merlin & Arthur, with brief appearances of Gwaine, Mordred and Finna

**RATED: **T for mild violence and the use of the word 'shit'

_**What If…5x10, The Kindness of Strangers. **_

_In which Arthur notices Merlin missing from the camp and decides to pursue him. Arrives after Merlin uses his magic (No reveals) but not in time to stop the arrow from piercing him._

* * *

When Arthur awoke from his slumber the next morning, he knew there was something amiss. He could hear his Knights rushing frantically around the camp, packing up their belongings and fastening them the saddles of their horses.

'What's going on?' Arthur demanded, as Sir Gwaine rushed past, hurriedly rolling up his blanket.

The man stopped to help the King to his feet. 'Merlin's gone. He left during the night to pursue a Druid, according to Mordred,' Gwaine explained quickly, eyeing said Knight as he sat upon a log, his head in his hands.

His heart leapt into his throat as panic for his servant's safety threatened to take over.

'What happened, Mordred?' Arthur asked, standing before the young Knight.

Mordred shook his head, his blue eyes holding such remorse. 'I tried to stop him, sire. Honestly I did, but you know how stubborn can get!'

Arthur scuffed his boot viciously in the dirt. 'Merlin, you _idiot!' _he cried angrily. Next time he saw the boy, he was going to lock him up in the stocks for a week for wandering off.

'Sire, there is more,' Gwaine muttered as the others mounted their steeds. 'We think he may be in grave danger – if Morgana truly is involved, he could get himself _killed_,'

The King pursed his lips, trying to stay angry, because it was much easier than the pit of dread forming in his stomach.

"Alright, you carry on with the men – complete the mission. I'm going out to look for that utterly _useless_ twit of a manservant,' Arthur ordered.

Mordred began to argue, but shut his mouth at the sight of the King's determined gaze.

Arthur swiftly mounted his steed, and nodded to his men. 'Good luck, Knights,' he muttered with a nod, before galloping after the quite obvious trail of his manservant.

Oh, he _really _had a bad feeling about this…

***~*M*~***

Merlin peered around a large tree and watched as the Katha stacked more wood upon the merry blaze. With a smile, he stumbled into the clearing, startling the woman.

'Finna,' he greeted, as she gasped in relief.

'Master,' she replied, bowing deeply.

The young Warlock reached out, embarrassed. 'Please, don't. Don't,' he murmured as their eyes met.

'I thought I lost you!' Finna cried.

A grin spread across his aquiline features. 'You doubted me?' he enquired with humour.

Her eyes flashed in horror. 'Never!'

As the words left her lips, three men charged into the clearing, two grasping swords, while the other held a crossbow.

Merlin felt for his magic and his eyes flashed amber, sending the two men wielding swords crashing onto the forest floor.

He turned to dispatch the last, but his heart almost stopped when he saw Arthur leap out from the shadows, his sword plunging into the man's back – but the damage was done. He had already released the arrow.

The forest was now silent, three men were dead.

Arthur was about to launch a tirade and smack the servant around his ridiculous ears, but hesitated.

He followed Merlin's wide eyed gaze as he looked down, almost recoiling in shock at the sight of the arrow protruding from his abdomen.

Merlin looked back up, his wide blue orbs meeting Arthurs as he fell to his knees.

Spurred into action, the King rushed forth, ignoring the woman whom Merlin had been with and slid to the ground gripping the boy's shoulders as he began to fall back.

'Merlin, you _idiot_,' Arthur breathed, lowering his friend slowly to the ground. 'What were you thinking?'

The warlock blinked rapidly, barely noticing the Kings presence.

'The others won't be far behind,' Arthur began, his fingers playing around the shaft of the arrow, not willing to touch it for fear of causing the boy further pain.

'It must be removed,' the woman said quietly. 'We can't let Morgana find him,'

His brow beetled angrily at the mention of his traitorous half-sister, but nodded with understanding. Arthur took Merlin's hand, and placed it close to the shaft. 'Merlin, listen to me. As soon as I pull it out, you need to put pressure on it to stop the bleeding. I'm warning you, this _will_ hurt,' He said softly, his heart wrenching at the quick and shallow breaths his friend was taking.

'C-could it possibly h-hurt any more than it does now?' He asked as a small, pained smile quirked upon his lips.

Not wanting to be dishonest to Merlin, he responded gently. 'Yes, Merlin, it will hurt a hell of a lot more. Now _please _lie still.'

Merlin nodded slowly, bracing himself for the inevitable agony that would come – but honestly, nothing could have prepared him. Arthur gripped the shaft of the arrow and without hesitation, pulled it swiftly from the boy's side. Merlin arched slightly, grunting as the pain burning in his side threatened to pull him under. His face contorted as he withdrew his sword, planting it in the soft ground to steady himself as he rose. His hand pressed at the hole in his belly, thick crimson already staining his lithe fingers.

'Where can we go?' He grunted, wincing as he almost fell back to his knees. Arthur draped his arm over his shoulder gently, so the wound wouldn't pull so much, and helped him the rest of the way.

'I know of a watch tower at the other side of the valley, ' the woman offered. Arthur desperately wanted to know who this woman was, but now was not the time to be asking questions. Everything except saving Merlin's life and avoiding Morgana at all costs, was irrelevant.

'Can you walk?' Arthur asked gently as Merlin groaned and nodded.

'Yeah, I think so,' he breathed, leaning into Arthur.

'Come, it's not far,' the woman assured, walking ahead of the two men.

As they traipsed through the undergrowth, the King turned to his friend.

'What, in the name of Avalon where you _thinking _Merlin, running off like that? And who the hell is she?' Arthur hissed.

Whimpering, as the fire in his side burned constantly, Merlin shook his head. '_Please, _Arthur,' he begged. 'Not now,'

Arthur swallowed the lump in the back of his throat and tried to ignore the tears prickling in his eyes.

The injured man stumbled, but thanks to the aid of Arthur and his sword as a crutch, he did not fall.

'The tower is just ahead...I will go and see if it is safe. Let the boy rest in the meantime, ' she said to Arthur, he gentle eyes holding compassion and worry.

The king nodded, and lowered Merlin to the ground, leaning him against the trunk of a tree.

'I need to look,' he said, his voice wavering. He crouched by his friend and moved his trembling hand from the wound, which had been bleeding quite badly while they walked. The appendage was slick with it and Arthur felt sick.

The King peeled his tunic away, trying to ignore the sharp intake of breath the small and gentle elicited from the servant.

The ragged hole was red and puffy, in stark contrast to the pallor of his skin. Arthur removed a glove and peered up at his injured friend. 'Merlin, I have to see how deep the wound is, ok?'

The boy merely inclined his head in agreement, closing his eyes and resting his head against the rough bark of the tree.

With a sigh of guilt at the pain he was about to cause, Arthur inserted his finger into the wound, probing gently to determine the severity of the injury.

Merlin let out a harsh cry, tears spilling forth as he slammed his head against the tree, and Arthur stopped, quickly removing his finger and grabbing the boy's lolling head.

'Gods, I'm sorry Merlin,' he uttered, resting his forehead against Merlin's

'S'ok,' he replied softly, blinking owlishly. 'How deep?'

'Pretty deep...like the shit you always seem to get yourself into,' the king replied with a chuckle.

'Prat,' Merlin responded softly, his ears pricking at the sound of approaching feet.

It was Finna.

'It's safe. Are you ready?' she asked, leaning down to assist Arthur.

As Merlin struggled to rise, he let out a hiss, and agony contorted his features once more.

Propped up by his sword and his friend, they headed for the tower, with Finna in the lead.

***~*M*~***

It was nearing nightfall when they arrived at the ominous tower. Merlin was panting in pain and exhaustion, so close to passing out.

'Come on,' Arthur encouraged. 'Not long now and you can have a rest,'

They entered the dim watchtower, and Arthur baulked at the stairs. _How _in the world was Merlin going to make it up there?

Undeterred, Merlin pulled away from Arthur's support, and began to climb the stairs, spiralling round and round, determined to get Finna out of harm's way.

Halfway up, he stumbled with exertion and fell on his hands.

'Merlin!' Arthur cried softly, racing forth.

The boy looked utterly spent. Purple shadows sat beneath his eyes and his skin was pale and cold.

'I-I just need to rest...f-for a minute,' he gasped.

'No, come on Merlin,' The king said, hating that he could not let his friend stop. Merlin tried to stand and cried out, a frown of pain etching his features as he sat back.

'Merlin, we have to _move,_' Arthur insisted, as the baying of hounds met their ears.

'Are you _always_ going to be an insufferable clot pole?' Merlin asked, his grew lids growing heavier.

'Shut up and _move,' _Arthur hissed, as the barking came nearer.

With what little strength he had left, Merlin rose and continued the spiralling stumble up the stairs.

Finally, they reached and old door, which Arthur promptly kicked down.

'Where the hell too now?' Arthur demanded. 'We're surrounded!'

Finna gripped the regents shoulder with a firmness that belied her age. 'Sire, take him to the roof...they are after me and they assume I am alone. Once they find me, they will look no further.'

Arthur made no indication of moving, and did not notice Merlin slide to the floor in utter in exhaustion.

'Arthur, you _must _protect the boy as he would you...he is far more important to the future of Albion than you will ever know.'

The baying was growing nearer, and Arthur was spurred into action. He hefted Merlin bodily from the floor.

'Grant me a favour, before you leave Merlin,' she said, gripping the Warlock's wrist. 'Leave me your sword,'

Merlin handed it over hesitantly and smiled lightly.

'Thank you,' he murmured, allowing Arthur to pull him away.

'It has been an honour to know you,' Finna replied with a sad smile. She turned to Arthur once more. 'Do not forget my words King. Merlin _must _survive!'

And with those last words, they headed to the roof.

***~*M*~***

They stumbled into the night, after the tedious climb, and Arthur was not able to stop Merlin from falling to his hands and knees.

'C'mon Merlin,' he urged gently, trying to lift the boy.

'Ar-tur...' he gasped, as his tired limbs collapsed beneath him.

Arthur shut the heavy oak door quietly before hefting Merlin up from under the armpits and dragging him as far away from the door as he could.

The king stumbled and fell back with a surprised grunt, and Merlin fell into his chest with a pained moan. The boy was shivering now, the huge amount of blood loss and lack of rest, taking its toll on his injured body.

Arthur pressed his hand to the wound as Merlin's fell away, panic overwhelming him as the boy failed to react in any way to the pain.

The young king struggled to lift him higher, until his trembling chin rested atop Merlin's raven mop.

'C'mon Merlin, don't you _dare_ die on me,' he muttered, tears spilling from his blue eyes.

'T-that an order, sire?' came a small voice from below. Arthur almost hugged him in relief.

'Yes _Mer_lin. As the King of Camelot, I order you _not _to die,'

Merlin's soft chuckle turned into a deep painful cough.

'A-Arthur..' he mumbled through painful, gasping breaths.

'Hush Merlin...I will get you back safe...' He promised, praying to the God's that he would not break it.

'A-are you _ever _not a dollop-head?' Merlin wheezed, looking up to his King. 'Are you _crying, _Arthur?'

The king did not even bother to wipe the tears away. 'It's just my allergies, _Mer_lin. I'm not a girls petticoat, like you are,' he replied with a watery smile.

Merlin coughed again, his abdomen clenching painfully. His lids began to flutter, and his vision blurred.

The two Arthur's above him frowned. 'Don't you dare...I gave you a direct order,'

But Merlin could no longer maintain his stoic exterior. He began to sob.

'Arthur, I'm so cold...so _scared,_' he admitted, as darkness crept in. 'I...I..._sorry..._'

And his eyes slid closed, as he finally fell into black...

* * *

When Merlin next opened his eyes, the sunlight burned – forcing them shut again.

'Oww,' he groaned, trying to sit.

'Don't move, Merlin. You'll ruin Gaius's handy needle work,' came a voice from close by.

'Arthur?'

'The one and only.'

Merlin opened his eyes again, and peered at the young King. His blonde hair was messy and it looked as though his hadn't slept in weeks, but he was smiling. 'How do you feel?' he asked.

'Like I've been shot with an arrow and dragged across half the countryside,' Merlin grumbled.

Arthur chuckled. 'Good, it means you remember...'

'Ugh...I remember you crying like a lass,' the young warlock teased with a cheeky grin.

The smile fell from Arthur's lips. 'You almost disobeyed my orders _Mer_lin,' he said in a warning tone.

'Not for the first time, Prat,'

Arthur smiled again, glad that Merlin was making cheeky banter. I meant he would recover.

The boy wrinkled his nose in disgust as the king bent down to ruffle his hair.

'Have you bathed recently sire? Because frankly, you are a little on the pungent side,'

'I was busy making sure you didn't die, _idiot,_'

Merlin's grinned widened. 'And you cried, because you couldn't bear the thought of losing me,'

The king rolled his eyes. 'It's just hard to come across a servant nowadays...I was merely sad that I would have to start the search again and...' Arthur's eyes narrowed. 'Merlin...I swear, if you utter a _word _to _anyone_...I will throw you in the stocks for a full _week_...now sleep. Gaius will be mad if he gets back to discover I've had to do something drastic to stop you from being such a clot pole,'

'Hey that's my word –'

'Oh, just _shut up_ Merlin,'

The boy closed his eyes, and soon he was in a deep sleep.

Arthur wiped his eyes and smiled knowing his friend would be okay.

* * *

**Okay, now it's YOUR turn. Drop me a line!**


	2. Kindness of Kings II

**A/N: **

Wow guys! Thanks for the amazing response! All your reviews made me smile!

So the prize for the first prompt goes to *Drum roll* KitKat! This one is for you!

I _still _don't own Merlin!

**CHARACTERS: **Arthur, Merlin, Knights & Gaius.

**RATED: ** T

**GENRE: **Hurt/Comfort.

_A part 2 to the Kindness of Kings. Arthur's perspective – How he gets Merlin back to Camelot once he has lost consciousness and various character reactions to the injured boy._

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**The Kindness of Kings II**

'I'm _s-sorry…_' the injured boy gasped, his lids fluttering like the wings of a dying butterfly. Arthur's heart pounded in his chest, panicked and uneven, and soon the fear brought his breaths in painful gasps.

More hot tears spilled forth, dripping from his nose and falling upon Merlin's pale brow. The king was too scared to check whether or not his friend still lived, but he forced himself to take several deep breaths. With his eyes closed to the younger man below him, Arthur could feel his heart rate decrease into some semblance of normalcy.

Feeling more in control than before, at least, Arthur reached down and placed two shaky fingers against Merlin's throat. For a moment, he felt nothing, but _there…_there it was; an irregular thrumming against his fingers – weak and labouring, like a feeble bird.

But it was _something. _

It gave Arthur a renewed determination, realising his friend was not beyond assistance. Not _yet _anyway.

There was still far too much blood for his liking, staining the young man's tunic and the top of his pants. Shuffling back slowly and gently laying Merlin flat, the King crawled to his side and peeled the rough material gently from the wound. In the silvery moonlight, he could see the precious fluid glistening as it oozed from the ragged hole. It was still flowing at an alarming rate, and Arthur knew if Merlin were to make it back to Camelot alive, he would _have _to stop the bleeding.

He placed two hands over the wound and pressed down. The gore spilt through the gaps in his fingers, and Arthur felt physically ill.

Arthur swallowed the bile that was climbing up his trachea, and kept firm.

The sounds of footsteps approaching near broke his concentration. Had Morgana decided to look around after all?

_No,_ it couldn't be right – he remembered hearing the dogs barking in the distance, the sounds getting further and further away.

So perhaps a new threat – Bandits maybe?

The young king withdrew his sword, careful to keep pressure on the wound as he readied himself for an attack.

But none came.

The door crashed open, revealing the noble Knights of Camelot.

'Sire are you-' Percival began.

'Not me, _Merlin_,' Arthur interrupted, his sword no longer need, both his hands were upon the wound once more.

'Oh dear Gods, ' he heard Gwaine mutter, rushing forward. 'What do you need me to do,' he asked without hesitation.

The panic in the Knight's deep brown eyes was profound and his face held none of its usual joviality.

Arthur's blue eyes flicked upward to meet those of his friend.

'I need some rags. Clean ones preferably,' he said firmly, but Gwaine knew he was anything but strong right now. The King's hands were shaking visibly as more blood slickened them.

Gwaine discarded his chainmail and removed the tunic beneath, leaving him bare as he began to tear the material.

'C'mon Merlin, you have to fight,' he heard Arthur mutter.

The tenderness and pain in the King's voice damn near broke his heart. He looked _so_ young. Not like a King at all. More like a boy who was losing his best friend.

Swallowing dread, the Knight leant over Merlin, and moved Arthur's hands away. 'You have a little rest mate...maybe get some water. I'll take over for now,' he said soothingly.

Arthur hesitated, but let Percival steer him away, watching as fresh rags were soon red.

The King was losing control – he could hear the small pained whimpers emanating from his unconscious Manservant, and he choked as the dam broke once more.

He sobbed, a King, in front of his Knights, but they looked upon him with deep respect. It took a real king to see the people and not the masses.

Drawing deep, ragged breaths and wiping his eyes, he turned back to Gwaine.

'The blood?' he asked shakily.

'Slowing, I believe,' the Knight replied, peeling back the sodden rags that were once his favourite shirt.

Arthur nodded. It was now or never.

Bending low, he gripped his friend, one arm under his knees and the other under his shoulder blades. He lifted Merlin with ease, moving at a brisk pace towards the door.

The darkness swallowed them as the returned indoors, and down they went, speedily but with great care. Arthur did not want to drop the boy.

When they reached the bottom, Gwaine gripped Arthur's shoulder. 'We weren't able to find your horse, sire – take mine and ride for Camelot as hard as you can. We will be along in a few hours,' he assured.

The King nodded as the party spilled out into the moonlight.

Arthur wasted no time – he handed the secret warlock to Gwaine, mounted the steed swiftly, and took Merlin once again, settling him into the saddle.

He spurred the beast into a canter, unwilling to waste more time, which was surely dwindling.

_You better not disobey my order, Merlin,_ he thought grimly as horse, King and Warlock rode through the night.

***~*M*~***

Arthur spurred the horse on, feeling bad for the strain he was putting on the poor animal, but if he were to choose between the beast and his friend, he would ride until it collapsed, put it out of its misery and run back to Camelot with Merlin over his back.

The forest flew by in a blur of green and brown – the well ridden path illuminated by the silvery moon.

'Just a bit longer, Merlin...hang in there, you'll make it,' Arthur assured, to himself as much as to Merlin.

The king silently wondered why he cared so much for the life of his idiot friend – but as the word flickered through his mind, his question was answered.

The boy was loyal almost to a fault, constantly risking life and limb to protect his King. He seemed like a bumbling coward a lot of the time, but when it _really _came down to it – he would fight. It was then Arthur realised Merlin really _was _the bravest man he knew.

He did not once whine about his wound, he even insisted on walking instead of being carried and the king knew, once Merlin was conscious, he would come back to serve him almost immediately, whether he was fully healed or not.

The boy was almost an unofficial Knight of Camelot, and Arthur had never known such a pure and kind soul.

Tears pricked his eyes as the rode on, the battlements of the citadel growing ever closer. Right now, he wanted to pull the boy close and hold him, apologise for being the biggest royal prat in the history of Camelot and tell Merlin that he was his first and closest friend.

They approached the men guarding the gate at a gallop, he didn't need announce himself – they could see the look of steely determination on his dirty face, and the slumped form of another on the saddle in front of him.

He pushed the horse just that little but further, but gradually slowed to a trot as they entered the courtyard of the Citadel.

The king noticed a petite maidservant about to enter the castle, but he called her back.

Her green eyes widened at the summons and meekly approached, her head dipped low.

Arthur dismounted and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. 'Don't fear me, please,' he asked desperately, his face open and kind. She nodded, her eyes flickering to the serving boy in the saddle.

'I shall go and tell Gaius to prepare his chambers for a patient,' she said, reading the expression in Arthur's face. The young girl gave him a small smile and raced away.

'Come on you lazy sod,' Arthur murmured, sliding the still unconscious boy from the saddle and cradling him close.

Feeling the lightness of the young man, he made a mental note to organise a small feast in his honour for when he awoke.

Leaving the steed to cool down, Arthur raced towards the Physician's chambers as fast as his fatigued legs would allow.

***~*M*~***

'Put him on the bed,' Gaius ordered firmly as the king kicked the door open. Arthur noticed the flicker of fear in the old man's eyes as he saw the blood that stained both his ward and his king.

'How long has he been unconscious?' the physician asked, as Arthur set the boy gently upon the bed.

'About three hours. I managed to slow the bleeding somewhat, but he's already lost so much,' Arthur replied as Gaius cut Merlin's shirt away from the wound. 'He wouldn't allow me to carry him earlier – we were being pursued by Morgana and he insisted on walking,'

Gaius nodded slowly, probing the ragged wound. 'You have done well sire. Fortunately there doesn't seem to be internal damage, but he is burning with fever. I need you to cool him down whilst I clean the wound,'

Arthur nodded, finding a bucket of cool water and a rag. He soaked the material and squeezed it out, placing it upon Merlin's fevered brow.

Gaius worked deftly, cleaning the injury with warm soapy water before producing a bone needle and fine thread to stitch with.

The old man only hope the boy would stay unconscious.

He sewed quickly, closing the hole before applying a poultice to reduce swelling.

'Will he be alright?' Arthur asked, soaking the cloth again and pressing it to his cheeks.

Gaius gave him a small smile. 'He will live – and you are to thank for that, sire,'

The king nodded, returning the smile as he sat on the stool by Merlin.

'Do you mind? I mean, can I stay with him until a regains consciousness?' Arthur asked quietly, find Merlin's hand and gripping it gently.

Gaius 's gaze softened as the King, looking tired and frightened as a child, thumbed a lock of Merlin's dark and sweat-soaked hair from his forehead.

'Of course sire – I'm sure it will help. Besides, I am weary and the boy needs monitoring. Do you mind if I retire?'

Arthur shook his head, and soon, he was left alone to his thoughts.

Merlin had fought – he had been so close to death, and for a moment, Arthur feared he would not survive. But the young man was rather resilient and had obeyed an order, for once.

The king smiled at Merlin as he slept. His brow was no longer creased in pain and his breathing was deeper and more even.

And that is when Arthur swore that he would protect the boy as much as Merlin protected him.

The king would do anything to ensure the boy would never come to harm again.

He would rather die than see Merlin like this again. He would die a hundred times for his servant.

His Merlin...

His _friend._

* * *

**I hope that was satisfactory KitKat! Let me know if you liked it!**

**Next prompt goes to ****FranGipani6181!**

**What if S04Ep2 – Merlin sacrifices himself to the veil instead of Lancelot?**


	3. Beyond the Veil

**A/N: **

Thanks again for the support! I had a few problems with this one, which is why it has taken me so long to write...but with the help of the lovely **FranGipani6181 **I finally have direction! Thanks honey, this one is for you!

***Insert standard **_**'I do not own Merlin'**_** disclaimer here***

**CHARACTERS: **Arthur, Merlin, Knights, Gaius & The Cailleach

**RATED: ** T

**GENRE: **Hurt/Comfort, Tragedy + Angst

_WHAT IF...SE04EP2, The Darkest Hour – Merlin goes through the veil between worlds instead of Lancelot?_

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**Beyond The Veil**

_'This is my fault, and I'm sorry,' Arthur murmured to the ill young man as he lashed him to the steed. _

_Merlin rolled his blue eyes up to the Crowned Prince. 'Take me with you, please,' he beseeched lightly as tremors continued to wrack his lithe body. _

_The young regent pursed his lips. 'You'll die, Merlin,' he replied, his heart clenching with guilt at the pleading look in his friend's eyes. _

_'You don't understand...Please, Arthur,'_

_The Prince shook his head, amazed by the stubbornness of the man. _

_'Do you ever do as you're told?' he asked quietly. _

_Merlin shuddered, his blue lips trembling. 'I have to come with you,'_

_'Merlin...'_

Merlin shook the memory from his head as they left Leon, Elyan and Percival to dispatch the Wyvern. It was still fuzzy – his memory between jumping into the path of the Dorocha and being cured by the Vilia, but now wasn't the time to be dwelling on such things. He could see the steely determination in Arthur's eyes as they approached the rift between worlds.

Silvery light danced gently around a gash of complete and impenetrable darkness, and it almost made the boy have second thoughts about stepping through.

Their footsteps echoed around the vast and crumbling courtyard, mingling with the mournful screams of spirits, good and bad, that had entered their world.

The old woman stood by the rip, her white face peering out from the cowl of her cloak. The four companions looked upon her with awe, and fear. Merlin remembered the banquet at Samhain, when all of this mess began...he could recall the sudden coldness that surrounded him and clutched at his heart with icy fingers, and its frosty tendrils were beginning to creep upon him now, as he stared into the deep soulless eyes.

'It is not often we have visitors...' The Cailleach said her voice as old as a tomb.

Arthur squared his shoulders and looked the crone straight in the eye, though it repulsed him to do so.

'Put an end to this!' he called over the noise of the screaming Dorocha. 'I demand you heal the tear between the two worlds!'

The gatekeeper held his gaze, pouring indifference from her eyes.

'It was not I, who created this horror. Why should it be I that stops it?' she inquired.

With a deep breath, Merlin stepped forward. 'Because innocent people are dying!'

'Indeed,' she said before breaking into a malevolent cackle that made the hair on the back of their necks stand on end.

With a growl, Gwaine rushed forward, his blade at the ready, but The Cailleach sent him flying with a lazy flick of the hand. The knight landed some feet away upon the flagstones, unconscious.

'Is that the best you can do?' she asked, amusement lacing her words.

'I know what you want,' Arthur said with a firmness that belied the rage simmering behind his eyes.

'Do you?' The old woman asked. 'And are you willing to let me have it?'

Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat. He could feel his manservant's eyes boring into the back of his neck, urging him to stop.

'I am prepared to pay whatever price is necessary,' he replied after a pregnant silence.

The woman smiled, her bent finger beckoning the Once and Future King to come forward. Merlin clenched his jaw and looked over at Lancelot.

The clot-pole was actually going to do it! He was going to kill himself when someone lesser than he was willing to give his life.

_Not today_, Merlin thought with some vehemence. His eyes swirled gold and he held out his hand.

'_**Forb Fleoghe!' **_he incanted, watching as Arthur jerked backwards and fell to the floor, his eyes closed.

The crone raised an eyebrow. 'So _Emrys..._you decide to challenge me after all...will you give yourself to the spirits to save your Prince?'

'It is my destiny.'

Movement to his left forced his eyes off the gatekeeper, just for a moment, as he saw Lancelot, striding towards the rift.

'_**Swefnu!' **_Merlin cried, directing his power towards the Knight. His eyes widened suddenly as he realised what the young Warlock was doing, before crumpling upon the floor in an enchanted slumber.

The boy did not waste anymore words on the crone, whom he was now studiously ignoring, but instead, raced towards the pulsating rip.

His heart was thumping in his chest and through the blood pounding in his ears; he thought he heard Arthur's call of despair.

As Merlin neared the entrance, he turned. He could see the look of horror upon his friends pale face, and he felt his heart clench.

_Sorry Arthur_

He gave the Prince a sad smile...and stepped into darkness.

***~*M*~***

_Emrys..._

_Emrys..._

_Merlin could feel the darkness swirling through him as he stood upon the threshold of the void. Ghostly fingers brushed his skin, sending painful bolts of electricity through his already shuddering frame. _

_Emrys..._

_The black mist churned about his throat, forcing out a cry of pain as it began to grasp his soul. It was agony like he never experienced – burning and freezing at the same time. _

_The hand of the Cailleach rested upon his shoulder. _

_'Emrys...you have made an honourable sacrifice for the once and future king...however, it cannot be accepted. Your time among men is not yet over...even if you want it to be,' she said gently, brushing the tendrils of mist away._

_'What of the veil?' Merlin gasped his head pounding. _

_'There has been a volunteer...one who is willing to trade places with you in order to seal the void,' she responded. 'He is old...and not much longer for this world. It is a father's gift, although he is not yours by blood...'_

_Merlin's eyes widened in terror. 'No...GAIUS!' he cried as The Gatekeeper pushed him back. _

_'Goodbye Emrys...until next we meet!' the woman responded, as Merlin was launched into the air, crackling with electricity. His breath hitched..._

_And he knew nothing. _

* * *

Arthur watched in horror as his serv-_friend, _ran towards the rip between worlds.

"MERLIN!' he cried despondently.

_Please, no..._

The raven haired youth turned, and their azure eyes met.

Merlin smiled...such a sad, yet hopeful smile – as he stepped into the threshold...and froze.

The young Prince fell to the stone, his head hung as tears broke free.

_What is the life of a servant compared to that of a Prince?_

Arthur remembered the words they had shared only days before, after Merlin survived the attack of the Dorocha. He really meant it – the boy would do anything for him.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest, expected the rift to be closed when he looked up again – but his friend still stood at the threshold, convulsing visibly as silver fingers touched him from within.

A cry of anguish met his ears and suddenly Merlin was hurled into the air by an invisible force, the veil shrinking rapidly.

Ignoring the supernatural event, Arthur clambered to his feet as Merlin hit the cold ground. _Hard._

_'Merlin!'_ The Prince called, running to the limp figure that lay in a crumbled mess, several feet away from the stirring form of Gwaine.

Once again, Arthur was on his knees, bent over Merlin's body – afraid to touch.

'What happened?' Gwaine asked, rubbing his head.

'My _idiot_ of a servant tried to sacrifice himself to the veil...I don't know what happened.' He replied, rolling the boy onto his back.

'Does he live?' The Knight asked, his eyes blank as Arthur searched for any sign of life.

The Prince took a shuddering breath, and his shoulders slumped.

'I can't feel a pulse...and he's...not breathing,' the youth replied, his voice small. Tears spilled from his eyes as he gripped his friend's shoulders and shook.

'P-please Merlin,' Arthur sobbed, his heart breaking at the unmoving form. 'Don't do this! I need you to WAKE UP!'

The cry was animal as he bore his clenched fists down upon Merlin's chest...and miracle of all miracles – Merlin's eyes flew open and he shot upright, straight into Arthur's arms, gasping for breath.

'Oh gods, Merlin! If you ever do that again, I will kill you!' The prince promised, tears still trailing down his dirty face as Merlin gripped his tunic.

'Gaius...' he heard the boy mumble.

Arthur pulled the boy away to see a look of utter anguish upon his sharp features.

'The Cailleach would not let me sacrifice myself...but she took another,' he whispered, his emotions beginning to surface.

'Gaius...' Arthur repeated, feeling pain of his own.

That was when Merlin broke. He had lost so much, and done no harm to deserve it. The sweet, kind boy pulled away from his friend and began to pound the floor angrily, expletives flying from his lips. Arthur had never seen him in such a bewildering state, and could only stare blankly as the skin over his knuckles split, sending a spray of blood from the damaged appendage.

Gwaine and Lancelot, however, more used to such behaviour (although not necessarily from their clumsy, mild-mannered friend) raced over.

Sir Gwaine gripped the boy's wrist to stop him from damaging himself further, and pulled the wailing boy roughly into his chest.

Lancelot sat back and watched as the boy shook in the other Knight's arms, devastating sobs wracking his body. Gwaine rocked backwards and forwards with the boy, shushing him gently, rubbing small circles on his back to encourage deeper breaths.

As Merlin started to calm, Arthur made his way slowly to his friends. Not wanting to say something wrong, he merely grasped Merlin's dirty hand and gave it a tiny squeeze.

And they sat as such until the sun rose and beyond.

* * *

**I hope this was acceptable Fran! And of course to all my readers out there! I know it was a short one but hopefully, it was satisfactory!**

**The next prompt goes to Synk – SE05EP8 The Hollow Queen – What if Arthur found Merlin in the Valley of the Fallen Kings?**


	4. Hollow Heart

**A/N:**

Thank you guys again for the reviews! I forgot to mention at the end of the last chapter, that this one will be a combined prompt for both **Synk **and **Rotashark**, as they have both suggested the same thing.

Enjoy!

_**Disclaimer: **__As much as I would love to own – Alas, I do not…_

**CHARACTERS: **Merlin, Arthur & brief appearances by Morgana and Daegal

**RATINGS: T **

**GENRE: **Hurt/Comfort

**SE05EP8 – The Hollow Queen. **

What if Merlin awakens to find Arthur by his side instead of Daegal?

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**Hollow Heart**

_Merlin stopped in his tracks, turning upon the younger boy who had insisted that his sister was ill. He was tired, sweating profusely from their long trek through the forest, and angry. He had begun to get suspicious when his mental cries of warning went unheeded by Daegal, and now – now the boy's silence, coupled by the guilty look upon his features confirmed his doubts. _

_The young Warlock stepped forward, fury flashing in his cobalt eyes as he gripped the other boy's wrist. _

'_You're not a Druid,' he said, ripping Daegal's sleeve away from his wrist to reveal the faded and smudged druidic mark. 'Who are you?'_

_Daegal looked away from Merlin, his eyes settling to a figure in the distance. Panic contorted his features, but Merlin had no time to follow his gaze. _

_Morgana's eyes flashed gold, and Merlin was thrown back by an unseen force. He sailed through the air, landing with a thud upon the jagged stone precipice, consciousness gone. _

'_You've done well…I knew it wouldn't be difficult. Merlin has a weakness for outcasts – especially Druids,' the sorceress spat. _

_Daegal swallowed the lump in his throat. 'Why are you doing this?' he inquired softly, watching in fear as Morgana approached the unconscious boy. _

'_Because Merlin has meddled in my plans once too often,' the wild woman replied, crouching by the Warlock. She took a small, black bottle from the folds of her cloak. _

_Unstoppering the vial, she forced his lips apart with gloved fingers. 'The agony you feel,' she began maliciously, pouring the black sludge down his throat. 'You'll be glad when death comes,' _

_She climbed back to her feet and tilted her head, watching as tendrils of black slid from the corner of his lips. _

_With a vicious kick, the young boy fell from the crag, landing in the gully below, his leg crooked at an awkward angle. _

'_Are you really going to kill the King?' Daegal asked in a small voice. _

'_Hold your tongue!' Morgana snapped as she turned to leave. 'Not a word of this to anyone – you're forgetting I still have a few drops left,' _

_The false Druid looked down upon Merlin's limp form – the man who was willing to risk everything to save his non-existent sister. _

_His eyes were downcast as the injured boy trembled in the leaves. _

_And Daegal walked away…_

***~*M*~***

He could not get the image of the older man from his head...lying there on there on the hard ground, wounded and dying. Daegal shuddered at the thought.

But the witch...she had made it abundantly clear that he would perish if he opened his mouth.

With a sight, the young boy sat upon a fallen tree, his head in his hands. _Why? _Why had Morgana picked him for such a despicable task? Why didn't he _refuse?_

'Because you would be dead now, idiot,' Daegal murmured under his breath, he trembling fingers clutching at his mousy fringe.

Merlin had done nothing to deserve his fate, at least not to him...

_I'm a coward..._he thought dejectedly, a lone tear carving a track in his dirty face. Was he actually going to sit there, on a stupid tree, barely half a league from where the young Warlock lay dying - and feel sorry for himself?

It was true that he had not known the fate Morgana had in store for Merlin...but he knew that there would be an assassination attempt on the King.

With a deep breath, Daegal stood. If the sorceress was going to kill him for speaking, then so be it. He would die.

Merlin was a good man – he had neglected his duties as servant to the King himself in order to help Daegal, and even though he had been lying, about everything, the boy appreciated the sentiment.

He had made his decision. He was going to go to Camelot. He would warn Arthur of the attempt on his life and get help for Merlin while he was there.

After regaining his composure, Daegal set off in the direction of Camelot, his stride full of determination.

The young boy snuck through the gloomy citadel...all was quiet – the King enjoying a fancy banquet in honour of his royal guests.

It provided the perfect cover.

As quick as a shadow, Daegal headed towards the Physician's Chambers. Even if Merlin's guardian was not there, there was no doubt he would be far behind.

He stepped inside the circular room, sights and smells assailing him suddenly. Gaius would definitely be able to help him – his skill was legend throughout the Kingdom, and he would not allow Merlin to perish, whatever the cost.

A gravelly cough forced him from his reverie and he noticed he was not alone.

'Who are you boy?' the Physician asked.

'I-I am Daegal, sir,' he responded with a squeak.

Yes, the man was old – but the storm in his gaze frightened him to his very core.

'This is about Merlin, isn't it child?' Daegal nodded. 'What's he gone and gotten himself into now?' Gaius asked with a heavy sight.

The false Druid looked at his feet in shame. 'I...you see...I'm not actually a Druid – I lured your ward out of the castle under false pretences,' Daegal admitted, afraid to meet the old man's eyes.

'As I feared...what has come of my boy?'

'I r-really had no choice, Gaius...Morgana-'

_'Morgana? _She sent you?' The old man demanded, with a deep frown but his eyes...although they held much anger, the held so much panic for the well-being of his ward.

'She threatened to kill me...I didn't know what she was planning, but when I saw what she d-did to Merlin...'

Gaius gripped the boy's shoulders and gave him a shake.

'_What did she do?'_

Daegal gulped. 'She p-poisoned him and kicked him from a ledge. The fall was not fatal, but it was high enough. I also fear she plans to kill the king,' he explained shakily.

Gaius growled. 'Did you see what she gave him? Boy, _tell _me!'

The frightened young boy was shaking all over now – wracked with guilt. This was his fault, and Merlin could die because of it.

'I-I'm not sure what it was exactly – but it was black, and quite viscous,' he described. 'He was unconscious when she gave it to him,'

The physician blanched his eyes full of fear. 'Dear lords...' he murmured. 'I must get to Arthur!'

'Why? What did she give him?' Daegal asked his voice high and frantic.

'It sounds like Belladonna,' he replied, hobbling towards the door.

As he reached out to open it, an intrusive knock sounded against the wood. Gaius lifted the latch and the door swung inwards, revealing a rather livid King Arthur.

'Gaius – I swear if that _useless_ manservant of mine is not back from his little jaunt at the tavern, I am going to hang him from his feet from the highest window – ' his eyes fell upon Daegal. 'Who are you?'

Daegal bowed deeply, and quietly introduced himself. 'You've replaced the bumbling twat then, have you?' Arthur inquired tetchily.

Gaius shook his head. 'No, sire – this young man has just revealed to me that...well, Arthur...Merlin is in _grave_ danger,'

The young regent frowned. 'What's going on Gaius? Why should he be in danger if he is only knocking back a few drinks at the tavern?'

'Arthur! Merlin is _not _at the tavern! He never _has _been!' Gaius snapped, ignoring the look of shock on the Kings face.

Daegal shuffled his feet awkwardly as the Court Physician continued. 'Daegal summoned Merlin under false pretences – leading the boy into a trap set by Morgana. She means to kill you sire, but I believe she felt that Merlin was a hindrance to her plan...'

Arthur swore, glaring daggers at the young boy who was cowering beneath his gaze. 'What else, Gaius?' The King demanded.

'According to young Daegal here, Morgana has poisoned him with Belladonna...It could already be too late!'

The king swallowed the lump of dread forming in his throat, but quickly masked it. 'Daegal, you will accompany the Knights and myself _only _to show us the way. The minute he is found, I want you gone. The only reason I am not throwing you into my dungeons is because you had the decency to come back. Gaius – keep him here whilst I round up my Knights. We ride immediately,' Arthur said, running swiftly from the room.

Gaius only hoped that they found him before it was too late...

***~*M*~***

The early morning sun shone brightly through the trees, dappling the ground below in golden light. Crickets chirped their incessant song, and a cool breeze sent the dried leaves on the ground into a light tumble.

Merlin regained consciousness slowly, exhaling sharply as burning agony pulsed in his blood. His eyes rested upon the leafy canopy of the forest, and he blinked rapidly trying the clear his sight of the blurriness that smudged his surroundings.

He lifted his head slowly, dizziness, nausea and pain, his only companions. His head pounded and he felt a stinging ache at his leg, just below his knee.

The young warlock took in his surroundings slowly – he was lying in a shady gully, his memory fuzzy at best as to how he got there.

He eased his knee up, turning to the side so that he could inspect the damage to his leg. His limbs were leaden, but he managed to reach down to his knee, his fingers trembling as they brushed the ripped and bloody skin.

Merlin's gut wrenched and foamy spittle flew from his lips, the pain now reaching a horrifying crescendo. He fell back to the ground, pained gasps echoing around him.

Muscles tensing, he could feel his limbs convulsing as deep, painful breaths rattled his chest. Desperate and afraid, he reached for the magic that usually danced close to the surface – but it had retreated, too weak to release. Merlin's eyes flashed gold and the light sputtered as his convulsions worsened. To say he was terrified, would be an understatement – to say the pain was bearable would be a light. Merlin could feel the magic retreating further and further the more he tried to summon it.

Blackness crept into the edges of his vision.

_I am going to die out here_, he thought morosely.

The pain was so bad, he almost wanted to.

He took another deep, shuddering breath, and attempted to pull at the tightly coiled string of magic once more, but his energy was spent.

With a huff of defeat, the dark haired youth fell back into darkness...

***~*M*~***

As soon as the Knights had been apprised of the situation, they rode. It was well past midnight by now, but the full moon provided them with enough light to avoid mishap.

They rode hard, through the night – following the directions of the youth whom they all glared upon with suspicion. This was the boy who led another to harm, merely to gain his own safety and a hefty sum of gold.

Gwaine refused to even look at Daegal, but he didn't care what they thought of him – not now, when they had an injured and gravely ill man to find.

It was light now, the sun streaming down – they had not stopped for a rest since leaving Camelot, by the Kings orders. None of the Knights complained. They were just as anxious to find their gangly, clumsy friend – hopefully alive enough to help.

'He's just over that rise,' Daegal called, swallowing convulsively, afraid of what they would find.

Arthur urged his steed forward, leaping over the fallen tree that blocked his path.

Daegal pointed. 'She flung him backwards with magic and he landed there,' he said, pointing at the rocks that jutted over a deep gully.

'You're sure?' Gwaine asked, as Percival shot him a worried glance.

The younger boy nodded. 'Yeah...she kicked him from there. I doubt he would have moved,'

Arthur flashed him a furious glare as he dismounted. 'You can leave now, boy – as long as you are sure this is the place. But hear me now. If he is dead...you will have to run far and fast...'

The warning died on his lips as he peered over the precipice. 'Gods above,' he muttered his eyes wide.

Merlin was down there, alright – the boy hadn't lied...

'Oh, _Merlin_,' he said with exasperation. The boy did not look good, even from this distance. Arthur's heart pounded in his chest as he took in the sight of his friend, lying broken and (hopefully) unconscious in the dirt.

He wasted no more time – the King had tarried enough when the initial shock of seeing Merlin in such a condition froze him.

'Somebody hand me a water skin,' he ordered, reaching out to catch the proffered item.

'Be careful sire,' Sir Leon murmured as Arthur began to climb down the rocks. Gwaine and Percival followed closely behind, leaving Leon and Elyan to cool the horses down.

'He looks de-'

'Shut up Gwaine, _please..._he has to be alive,' he said, jumping the rest of the way. As the King and Knights approached their fallen comrade, their panic rose – Merlin's skin was gray and his lips blue; blood matted his dark hair and a line of frothy saliva had dried across his face.

Arthur fell to his knees next to the boy and shook him gently by the shoulders in an attempt to rouse him. Merlin didn't respond – his limp body flopping around like a rag doll as Arthur shook with more vigour.

'Merlin, come on,' he muttered desperately, pulling the stopper from the water skin.

His lids fluttered as Arthur dribbled some water across his lips.

With a gasp, Merlin's eyes flew open – greeting the three men with a wide-eyed stare of confusion.

'Ar-tur,' he managed. 'Y-you came...'

'Course we did you brainless sod! What are you doing sleeping on the job?' Arthur said, trying to lighten the mood.

Sweat beaded upon his brow as he blinked rapidly, trying to sit – but the movement caused much pain.

He looked at Arthur, his pupil's domination most of his iris, and gave him a weak smile.

'Someone had to come and save your scrawny ass,' Gwaine piped up, although his voice lacked its usual humour.

Merlin frowned and turned away, nausea curling his stomach as he dry-retched. Arthur held his shoulder has he took deep, ragged breaths.

'It's too late...' Merlin grunted, lying back on the ground to try and stop the world from spinning.

'Like hell it is Merlin – you've been living with Gaius for Gods know how long! Tell us what we have to do!' Arthur cried, making the boy flinch.

'There's...nothing,' he gasped, his eyes crossing briefly as he tried to focus on the King.

Gwaine gripped his hand. 'There must be a cure! Just tell us which herbs, and we will find them for you,' he assured, stroking the hot skin of his knuckles.

Merlin writhed painfully beneath them, grunting to prevent himself from screaming.

'C'mon – what do we need?' Percival pushed, pushing his sodden hair back from his forehead.

The boy took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his brow furrowing as he tried to remember. He sat up slightly.

'Rue...' he began thickly, his voice catching. 'It's got yellow flowers...and feathery leaves.'

He stopped again, leaning back his eyes closing.

'Stay awake Merlin!' Arthur pleaded, giving him an encouraging smile as soon as Merlin's cobalt eyes appeared again.

'Milfoil...ground into a tincture,'

The king turned to Percival. 'Can you collect them and do what he said?' Arthur asked, satisfied when he nodded and hurried off into the bushes.

Gwaine was already collecting firewood, watching as Elyan and Leon approached with the horses, having found a way down.

Merlin gripped the King's wrist, pure unadulterated fear flashing in his eyes.

'Hurry...' he murmured, beginning to shudder. 'Hurry,'

And he went limp.

'How is he?' Leon asked - his concern for the younger man clear. 'Will he make it?'

Arthur wiped the tears that were already beginning to form in his eyes.

'I don't know...he's burning up and shivering at the same time. I don't know whether to pour water on him or wrap him in blankets ' He sighed. 'Bloody, gaping wounds I can deal with...this is a _Gaius _thing...'

His oldest friend and first Knight gripped his should reassuringly. 'He is strong, sire – I believe he will make it.'

Arthur nodded slowly as he watched Merlin struggle to breathe.

'I hope so.'

* * *

Merlin's shudders had worsened as Percival brought the clear liquid to Arthur. His breaths were uneven and heavy – It was taking its toll on him.

Arthur gripped the back of Merlin's head, pleased to see that he had regained consciousness, and raised it, so he could drink.

The king raised the tincture to the boy's lips, his heart jumping as Merlin gripped his wrist weakly.

He gave a choking cough and rested his head back to the ground, pushing the water skin that was offered away with a slight shake of his head.

'Feel...feel my heart,' he gasped, guiding Arthur's hand to his chest, before leaning back, blinking sluggishly. He took several deep breaths and pursed his lips, trying to ride the pain.

'What's happening?' Gwaine asked.

Suddenly, Merlin's head jerked backwards, his neck tensing as his body began to convulse vigorously. Arthur kept his hand over the boy's heart, and watched in fear as his body jerked spasmodically.

'What do we do?' Gwaine cried, as Merlin grunted and gurgled, a deep frown of pain upon his brow.

'I don't think there is anything to do Gwaine – He will have to ride it out...' Arthur replied.

For several more minutes, Merlin jerked and groaned, but finally – _thankfully_ – it was over.

His eyes slid closed as he lost consciousness, and Arthur scooped him up.

'We have to get him to Gaius...' Percival murmured, making room for the king.

Arthur's panic abated somewhat, however – the boy was cooling down and his breathing was returning to normal.

Merlin was far from ok, but he would live...

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed that one! The next prompt is for Mika271170, who has requested something **_**angsty**_** with any characters between series one & two...bear with me, I need to put my thinking cap on!**


	5. Small Spaces - part one

**A/N: **

This next little one –shot is for **Mika271170 **who has requested an angsty piece set sometime in Series one or two.

Instead of doing a 'What if' of an episode, I decided to create an original plot for this one. Let me know if you like!

_**Winter time in Camelot – **__Arthur and Merlin are out hunting in the snow and fall through the roof of a cave. This is when Arthur finds out the Merlin is __**severely **__claustrophobic. _

**CHARACTERS: **Merlin & Arthur (because who can't get enough of bromance)

**RATED: **T (because I'm paranoid)

Featuring generous amounts of Angst (yay) some whump (whoo hoo!) Scared! Merlin & Arthur comfort!

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**Small Spaces – part one**

Merlin shivered as the wind tousled his cloak, its icy fingers raising the hair on his arms. As ever, the manservant followed his master wherever he went; even if the daft clot-pole _had _decided to go for a little jaunt in the woods to kill some innocent beast or another. This was not unusual in the least – apart from the fact that _it was snowing. _

Well, it had only been snowing at the time, when Merlin pointed out this fact to Arthur, who studiously ignored his warnings. Now…_now, _they were walking, shoulders hunched and heads down – through a _blizzard. _

The dark haired youth had a sudden inclination to cuff the young Prince around the back of his stupid blonde head, but thought better of it. The man was carrying a sword after all.

He just settled with demeaning insults.

'I told you this was a bad idea, _dollop head_,' Merlin cried, his voice snatched away by the roar of the storm.

Whether Arthur heard him, or he was being ignored _again_, the boy couldn't tell – but they struggled on, legs sinking knee deep in the white powder.

The warlock wrapped his arms tighter around himself, trying to stave away the chill that was biting through his insufficient layers. He might as well have been naked, for all the warmth his clothes provided.

There was a sharp tug on the rope around the boy's waist – at least Arthur had the sense to lash them together before the storm got too bad, so they wouldn't lose each other in the wild flurry.

He stumbled forward, trying to dislodge his boot from the snow as the tug came again.

'Hold on, prat!' Merlin cried, as he face planted into the cold powder.

_Fabulous...just bloody GREAT_, Merlin though vehemently. Now **all **his clothes were wet – not just his breeches from the knee down.

'What are you doing, _idiot_?' Arthur asked scathingly, towering above him his fists resting impatiently upon his hips.

'Oh, you know – just resting,' Merlin snapped back, taking the gloved hand that was offered to help him to his feet.

'Well, the breaks over _Mer_lin – if we don't get back to Camelot soon, we will die in this!' Arthur yelled to be heard over the howling wind.

The young man rolled his eyes dramatically. 'Well I did warn you, _sire_.' He muttered tetchily as the Prince dragged him to his feet.

Arthur looked over his manservant impatiently. 'You should have worn something warmer, _idiot,_' he pointed out, dragging his arm beneath his red nose.

'_This is all I have, prat,'_ Merlin snapped, his patience wearing thin. He was cold, hungry and so very, very tired. He just wanted to get back to Camelot and defrost in front of a lovely fire, and maybe run up and down the empty corridors to get his blood flowing so he could feel his toes again.

By his calculations, dusk would fall soon – but much to his chagrin, it didn't look as though they would make it back to the castle tonight. Arthur's eyes said as much.

'Please don't tell me, you've gone and gotten us lost. _Haven't _you?' Merlin accused, jumping up and down on the spot. By now, the snow was so deep; they were practically surrounded by waist-high walls of the accursed stuff.

'Shut up _Merlin._ It's hard to gather my bearings in this weather. I'm just a little turned around,' the young man admitted.

Merlin scowled at him. 'Next time, would you bloody _listen _to me? You are such a stubborn arse!' he sputtered, turning to walk away.

'Where are you going Merlin? Camelot is _this_ way!' Arthur insisted.

Merlin threw his hands up in frustration. 'You wouldn't have a **clue** where Camelot is right now! I can't even tell up from down at the moment, I'm so damn cold! I noticed a cave a while back – we should probably head for it. We may stand a chance then!' He cried to make himself heard.

He could barely see a foot in front of him, and Arthur was getting lost in the mist.

The frozen boy let out a shuddering breath, his teeth chattering together as he awaited his decision.

'I'm pretty sure we can make it back!' Came Arthur's hesitant reply.

'Oh, great – yeah...I'm _pretty _sure that is a bloody stupid idea!'

Gods, he was getting uncharacteristically furious. This man was going to be the death of him! Two sides of the same coin were going to freeze to death before Merlin could say _destiny. _

'Alright, alright! God's Merlin, you are such a girl's petticoat!' Arthur snapped, relenting.

'Yeah well, at least I'm not a horse's ar-'

Arthur stopped him with a raised hand. 'Be quiet,' he murmured softly.

'Don't tell me what to do, you supercilious royal prat! If you had just listened –'

'I SAID SHUT UP MERLIN! I'm listening now...I can hear –'

The ground lurched suddenly beneath them, the sound of rumbling now so obvious to Merlin. Just when he thought his day couldn't get worse!

'Run!' Arthur cried, slogging through the slush.

It was easier said than done – It was like trying to run through treacle, but they had to at least try.

The earth below shifted again, and over the howling wind, they could hear rock shear against rock.

There was no hope. They couldn't run fast enough, they were tied together by a strong, thick rope and it was too bloody cold.

As their eyes met, flashing fear and panic, the ground beneath them gave way, and down they fell – swallowed by darkness...

***~*M*~***

Arthur blinked slowly, as he came to his senses. Darkness pressed into him like a blanket, and the silence was suffocating. He tried to stand, but pain and dizziness over took his senses and he came crashing to his knees.

'Merlin?' he called, his voice hoarse from the cold. 'Where are you, you lazy git,'

Harsh breaths from somewhere close by were his only response.

A small pit of worry wormed into the Prince's gut,

Arthur, himself – was a shuddering mess from the low temperature, and he donned a fur lined cloak! He could only begin to imagine Merlin's plight...if only he could _see!_

That was when he felt the harsh rope sitting at his hip. Recalling his earlier brilliance, he followed the length of the rope – shuffling along on his knees. The sharp rocks tore at his trousers, but he ignored the stinging as they sliced skin and continued on, only stopping when his hand came into contact with a boot.

Gripping the boy's ankle, he shook gently.

'Merlin, come on,' Arthur called gently, his strength waning.

If could see anything, his vision be swimming, but because of the inability to make anything out, his only reassurance that Merlin was alive were the horrifying breaths that wheezed through Merlin's lips.

Close to losing consciousness, Arthur shuffled closer to his icy friend and curling into is body, through the warm cloak over the both of them.

Utterly spent, Arthur let his eyes slide shut and he was out.

* * *

When the Prince next awoke, he realised he could once again see.

A shaft of weak sunlight had squeezed its way through the low cavern, illuminating its dark corners.

Arthur looked around slowly, an icy finger of dread crawling up his spine as their horrifying situation dawned on them.

They had been so _blessedly_ fortunate, not to get crushed and killed by the gargantuan boulders that balanced precariously upon one another – the roof of the cave, (although one could probably argue that it more resembled a crevasse, than anything else) was so low, that neither men would be able to stand and walk on out.

But Arthur was not willing to give up yet. He nudged his manservant gently to rouse him, but when he didn't response, the Prince felt is panic rise.

Sitting up slightly, Arthur pulled the cloak off the boy, terrified that he had died overnight from the cold...but upon hearing those haggard breaths that his fear melted away.

Rolling Merlin to face him, he was greeted by a dirty, tear-streaked face and wide blue eyes that held so much terror and panic that Arthur just wanted to hold him and make his fear go away. A large gash marred his forehead and dried blood matted his hair, but the Prince couldn't tell if he had any internal problems.

'Merlin, mate – are you hurt? Other than your head, I mean,' Arthur asked, scrutinizing the boy thoroughly.

The dark haired youth cast his eyes downwards, towards his stomach, and then looked back at his friend.

Merlin's tunic was ripped, and stained red, where a sharp rock (at Arthur's guess) had torn the skin. The prince checked it quickly, to make sure it wasn't life threatening, before rocking back on his heels and peering at his servant with a worried gaze.

'What's wrong with you, Merlin? I usually can't shut you up – even when you are hurt,' Arthur asked, fiddling with a stone that he had found nearby.

'I-I...Arthur, I'm _scared!_' Merlin began, his voice hitching as sobs wracked his body. The Prince gave him a bewildering look – sure he had seen the boy upset a few times, but this was _different. _

He was having a full blown anxiety attack! His lips were parted slightly, as he tried to take in huge gulps of air – but it wasn't working.

The Prince of Camelot grabbed his overly loyal and goofy servant by the shoulders and slapped him hard across the face.

'Calm _down_! You will make yourself sick!' he said, exasperated and now slightly guilty at the look of primal fear and the boy's cerulean eyes.

's-sorry, Arthur,' he mumbled, looking away sheepishly.

'You have nothing to apologise for, idiot...I just want to know something – we have been in worse situations than this. Dragons and sorcerers and sieges and long dead soldiers with minds of their own! We fell down a hole, and _yes_, admittedly, there doesn't seem to be anyway to escape without bringing the whole lot down, but I have never, _ever _seen you react like that to any of the other seemly desperate situations we seem to have a knack for getting into,' Arthur ranted without taking a breath.

Merlin sighed, and looked at his master and hopefully, _friend. _

'I...' he began, swallowing dryly.

'C'mon Merlin, I won't laugh, I promise,' the Prince assured.

'I really, _really _can't stand small spaces.'

* * *

**I will leave it there for now! I have decided to make this a two parter – just cuz I can! That, and it is so unbelievable, **_**unbearably **_**hot right now, that I can't think of anything further at the moment, but I still wanted to get a chapter to you tonight. For all my readers from 'down under' (if any) you will know my pain. For those of you who are sitting around a fire because it is so utterly cold – a real scorcher here today, with temps between 43 – 46 degrees Celsius. (for those of you who aren't great with conversions, that's 110.48 F – 114.8 F) no lie! Pinky swear on Merlin! **

**Thanks for the support, and I hope you guys like it so far! Especially you, Mika, as this was your prompt!**


	6. Small Spaces - part two

**A/N: **

So, now that it is MUCH cooler today, and I have been asleep for _ages_, I have had enough time to think of how this two shot ends! Don't forget reviews are pure happiness and I can't get enough of them!

There is a bit in this that may seem _slightly_ slashy, but I assure you, this is deep bromance _only. _But you may read into it what you will.

_**Winter time in Camelot – **__Arthur and Merlin are out hunting in the snow and fall through the roof of a cave. This is when Arthur finds out the Merlin is __**severely **__claustrophobic. _

**CHARACTERS: **Merlin & Arthur (because who can't get enough of bromance)

**RATED: **T (because I'm paranoid – and because Arthur says the 'F' word...naughty Arthur)

Featuring generous amounts of Angst (yay) some whump (whoo hoo!) Scared! Merlin & Arthur comfort!

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**Small Spaces – part two **

_'C'mon Merlin, I won't laugh, I promise,' the Prince assured. _

_'I really, really can't stand small spaces.'_

* * *

True to his word, Arthur didn't laugh. How could he, seeing Merlin look so dejected and _utterly_ afraid? It shook him to his very core.

The Prince couldn't blame him for feeling so – he too had felt the cold fingers of dread clutch his heart upon waking up in such cramped and enclosed quarters.

Merlin shuddered and closed his eyes, trying not to look at his surroundings for fear of coming undone at the sight.

'It's alright, Merlin – I will get us out of here,' Arthur promised softly, his voice breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over the pair after Merlin's admission of terror.

The pale youth had flinched at the sudden noise, but opened his eyes briefly to give Arthur a wan smile.

'I feel like such a _coward_,' he murmured, running his long, graceful fingers through his sleep tousled hair.

Arthur gripped his friend's shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting fashion.

'I'm scared too, Merlin,' he confessed softly, feeling a blush creep into his cheeks. It wasn't every day the young Prince admitted to his own shortcomings.

This seemed to brighten the young boy somewhat, and Arthur couldn't help but feel a little annoyed that his bumbling manservant had managed to pull such an admission from him without uttering a single word.

'Thanks for trying – but you don't have to lie to make me feel better,' he said, drawing his knees to his chest with a wince. The movement pulled at the gash in his stomach, but the pain seemed to help take his mind of the situation, so he allowed it to run rampant through his body, thankful for the distraction.

'I am a Prince...I wouldn't lie in a situation like this,' Arthur responded after a time, watching his servant carefully as a pain shadowed his curved features.

Merlin scoffed. 'You wouldn't admit something like that to a mere serving boy,' he stated in disbelief.

Arthur chuckled, but there was no humour in the sound. 'And if you were just a _mere_ servant, it would probably be true.'

Resting his cheek upon his bent knee, Merlin looked over at his master with inquisitive eyes.

The Prince continued. 'Don't think I haven't noticed your unwavering loyalty Merlin, and your willingness to die for me,'

Merlin sighed. 'Any one of the Knights would die for you Arthur, as is their duty to protect the future King of Camelot,' he muttered in reply.

'Yet it was not they who pulled me from the path of the dagger the very first time we met.'

Merlin cast his memory back to that day – the look on Arthur's face when he saw who had pulled him from danger.

'I still remember feeling somewhat _impressed_ that you had the nerve to call me a royal arse, even knowing I could have you executed in a second,'

The young servant smiled. 'Stupidity on my part, I must admit,'

Arthur nodded. 'Yes, I agree. I could have killed you – and then where would I be?'

'Probably down this godforsaken hole without an idiot servant to distract from the desperateness of the situation,'

He nodded again. 'Speaking of the _situation_, how are you feeling? I mean, how bad is the pain?'

Merlin took a deep breath and lowered his legs back to the ground.

'It's bad – but good at the same time. It's a good distraction,' he responded, lying back and allowing his eyes to slide shut.

Arthur shuffled closer to the youth. 'You have to stay awake, Merlin. You may have damaged your brain more than it already is,'

''M tired, Arthur,' he said quietly, his head lolling.

'I don't care, _Mer_lin. Open your eyes,' Arthur commanded, smacking his sculpted cheek gently.

He obeyed begrudgingly, slowly opening his eyes. His pupils were large and uneven, almost obscuring the magnificent cobalt of his irises.

'I think you may have – damaged your brain,' Arthur muttered, gripping his jaw, and peering closely at the boy, the look on his face akin to worry. 'What about that nasty cut?'

Merlin lifted his tunic from the wound so that Arthur could take another look.

With a wince of sympathy, Arthur probed the wound with deft fingers, trying to block out the whimpers of pain that came from Merlin's trembling lips.

'It's not too deep at least, I will have to-'

His gentle ministrations were cut off by a deep rumbling. Eyes widening, he looked up at Merlin, whose eyes mirrored the fear he was feeling.

The ceiling of their temporary prison shuddered, a shower of dust covering the frightened men.

'_Fuck_,' Arthur murmured, eliciting a small gasp of surprise from his manservant, who had never heard him use such common, dirty language.

The Prince scrambled forward and grabbed his servant firmly. 'C'mon, we have to move, the ceiling is coming down!' He cried, as the ceiling trembled violently.

With a resounding crack, the rocks slid lower and Merlin whimpered, flipping over and crawling after Arthur. They could feel the rough rock, scraping their backs as the space they had to move diminished.

A large boulder dropped, splitting in two as it landed where Merlin had just been sitting.

And just as quickly as it began, the trembling ceased, darkness was surrounding them once more.

Lying on his back, Merlin felt the rough rock brushing the tip of his nose – it felt like a tomb, and his breath hitched.

'A-Arthur?' he called softly, his voice tremulous. His heart was pounding, and his breaths were short and panicked.

A large, calloused hand gripped his own tightly.

'I'm here, Merlin,' he responded, squeezing reassuringly.

The touch did nothing to calm him as tears leaked from his eyes. His stomach clenched and he whimpered with the pain it brought.

'It's ok, Merlin...I see a faint light ahead...we can get out. I know we can!'

The young man tried to calm his breathing, but the lack of space and light sent him into blind panic.

Choking on his tears, Merlin began to tremble uncontrollably.

_Buried alive...I've been buried alive._

'Merlin, come on, stay calm,' Arthur soothed, stroking his knuckles with his rough thumb.

'I c-cant...' Merlin gasped his mind racing. _You're going to die down here..._

A desolate sob escaped his parched throat, as he writhed in his tomb.

'Damn it _Merlin! _ We don't have much air down here and you're breathing it _all_,' Arthur snapped.

He instantly regretted the sharpness of his tone at the sound of Merlin's painful sobs.

'S-sorry,' he managed, between great, gulping breaths.

Arthur shook his head and gripped his hand tighter. 'Can you turn over? Get to your hands and knees?' he asked.

There was a sound of shuffling, and pained grunt as Merlin flipped slowly to his stomach once more, facing his Prince. Their noses touched. Arthur could feel the wetness of his cheeks as their brows touched.

The Prince gently thumbed the ridge of Merlin's cheek, trying to offer some comfort to the distressed boy.

'I think we may have found the back entrance to the little cave you saw...we are so _close _Merlin, but you have to keep calm,' Arthur muttered, feeling the youth's head slide away to rest on his shoulder.

The young man shuddered and Arthur felt tears upon his exposed throat.

'C'mon mate, I _know_ you can do this,' he encouraged.

After a moments silence, he felt Merlin nod slowly and calmed himself when he heard the boy take a deep shuddering breath.

'Ok,' Merlin said thickly. 'Alright...'

He steadied himself on hands and knees and waited for Arthur to turn in the cramped space.

Now that he had calmed himself enough to concentrate, he could see the light ahead that would be their saviour and slowly, the pair crawled forward. They didn't want to move suddenly for fear of bringing the ceiling down further.

Breath after shuddering breath, they crawled forth – the light ahead was growing, and Merlin knew they could make it.

Suddenly, Arthur paused, and Merlin collided into his rump.

'Come on Arthur, move your _arse_! I don't want to die with my face in it!' he admonished, giving him a small shove.

'Merlin,' came the gentle voice. 'How fast can you move on your hands and knees?'

The boy's eyes widened when he heard it – the ominous shifting of the earth.

'Pretty damn fast, if your fat arse wasn't in the way!' he cried, giving the Prince a sharp slap on the backside. 'MOVE!'

With speed that neither realised they possessed in such cramped quarters, they crawled as the space shrunk around them.

The light ahead was blinding now, and Merlin could feel his breath hitching again.

They ended up shuffling along on their stomachs, they space had diminished that much and Merlin sobbed in agony as the sharp rocks tore at his already injured belly.

He could feel the hot blood running down his abdomen, the pain reaching unbearable limits, but he didn't waver.

Arthur let out a short cry as they slid the remainder of the sloped tunnel and finally – _blissfully – _they fell through a large hole and into the cave that Merlin had seen.

They landed in a tangled heap upon the dirty ground.

'C'mon _Merlin! _We are not safe yet, GET UP!'

He tried to stand on trembling legs, but they collapsed beneath him.

Arthur extricated himself from the tangle of impossibly long limbs and gripped Merlin from under the armpits, noting the impossible amount of blood that shouldn't be coming from his manservant as he dragged him towards daylight.

Merlin struggled weakly but allowed himself to be dragged into the cold snow.

They had made it!

The pair watched with wide eyes as the cave collapsed – relief flooding their spent bodies as the trembling ceased.

With a huff, Arthur slumped into the cold ground, completely exhausted.

'I told you we would make it,' Arthur mumbled.

There was silence, and suddenly – Merlin laughed. Although the pain was great and he was so _completely_ exhausted, he laughed and laughed and laughed.

Arthur peered at him, bewildered.

'You really are mentally afflicted aren't you, Merlin,' he commented. 'You nearly died, and you are _bleeding!_ What in the hell is so funny?'

Merlin pointed, and slowly, Arthur's gaze followed the gesturing appendage.

Arthur couldn't help it – he began to laugh too.

They had been so _close_ to home, not more than a mile away. Snow coated Camelot like icing on a cake – its flags fluttering in the gentle breeze.

The Prince climbed to his feet, then aided the injured boy, who was guarding his injury with a limp arm.

'C'mon idiot, let's get to Gaius,' Arthur said gently, allowing Merlin to lean on him for support.

'Oh and _Merlin_,' he began, but the young boy finished his sentence for him with a cheeky smile upon his lips.

I know, if I tell _anyone _about the fact you were scared, my headache and sore belly will seem like a holiday in comparison,'

Arthur shook his head and chuckled. 'Well, there is that...but what I was actually going to say was, don't you _ever _scare me like that again,'

Merlin nodded and allowed Arthur to guide him to the Citadel.

They were both sore and exhausted...but incredibly happy to be alive.

* * *

**I hope you liked the ending! I can think so much better when it's not hotter than hell! When I woke up to a drizzly day, I found part two flowed so well. Rain is my muse! **

**The next prompt goes to Brocelande. AU to S05Ep9 - With All My Heart: **_**When Merlin fell down the cliff, he seemed injured, but nothing came of it. He is far more hurt then he let on, and once the adrenaline of saving Gwen wears off, Arthur regrets not asking Merlin if he is OK. Because clearly, he isn't.**_

**I have enough prompts for 6 more one-shots, so please drop me line! I love these ideas (Most of them have been ones I have thought of!) I live to make you guys happy, and I hope I am doing a good job! I have no plans of ending this anytime soon – and I am yet to see any **_**smut**_**...I may not do m/m or f/f but if you think Merlin needs some loving from an OC...it's just a thought! I have written Supernatural smut between Dean/Jo before (under my old penname of MizPredictable) and I don't think it was that bad. **

**And girls – if the fancy takes you, I will write you in ;p **

**I must confess I had an idea of a Merlin/OC/Arthur threesome...*embarrassed giggle* Yay for being the filling in a Merlin/Arthur sandwich! (Hey, I may be engaged, and I love my man to DEATH...but a girl can fantasize, can't she?)**


	7. For his King

**A/N: **

Well aren't you guys lucky! You've caught me in a writing mood, so here is the next one. This is for **Brocelande. **

_**An AU to S05Ep9 – With all My Heart: **_When Merlin fell down the cliff, he seemed injured, but nothing came of it. He is far more hurt then he let on, and once the adrenaline of saving Gwen wears off, Arthur regrets not asking Merlin if he is OK. Because clearly, he isn't

**CHARACTERS: **Merlin, Arthur, Mordred and Guinevere

**RATED: **T (because I like whump and stuff)

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**For his King**

_'You still there Merlin? Don't tell me you've gone into a sulk,' Arthur said with exasperation as he readjusted his wife gently over his shoulder. _

_'I'm not sulking,' Merlin began almost petulantly, as he shifted the many bags he now held. 'I'm carrying a load even a horse would struggle under,'_

_The King smiled slightly as he pictured the scowl on the young man's face. 'I will do you good,'_

_Merlin scoffed and rolled his eyes. 'It would do __**you**__ good,' he mumbled, adjusting the strap of Arthur's satchel so it didn't dig so horribly in his shoulder. _

_'I'm already good,' Arthur responded. _

_'Well, maybe I-' _

Arthur had been utterly terrified when he turned to find his friend nowhere in sight – and even more so, when he found the young man lying unconscious, way down in that ravine.

He had felt so physically sick, bile crept up his throat – but he forced himself to swallow it. He couldn't be sick when his servant needed rescuing.

Needless to say, he had thanked all possible deities he could think of when Sir Mordred came along.

It hadn't taken the young Knight long to free him, and Merlin had regained consciousness sometime later, insisting his only injury was a nasty bump on his head.

Now Arthur was wishing he had ignored the stubborn man, and continued his ministrations.

For a while, he had been sidetracked – he had his beautiful wife back, not the murderous monster that Morgana had created through her sadistic mind altering torture.

As they rode, he held his Queen tightly in his arms, afraid to let go – fearing that if he did, even for a second, she would disappear.

Guinevere nuzzled happily into his chest, her dark, almond eyes peering up at him, so full of love that Arthur's heart clenched.

He gave her a gentle smile and pressed his lips to her forehead, savouring her sensuous odour. Gods, was he going to give her night she wouldn't forget when they returned to the castle.

A slight frown crinkled her brow as she peered over her husband's shoulder, her eyes settling upon Merlin, who was riding quite a distance behind them.

'What is it, Gwen?' Arthur asked quietly, noticing the worry in her eyes.

'Arthur, did anything happen to Merlin before I woke? Something I missed?' she asked meeting his gaze.

The King frowned a little. 'He did take a tumble down a ravine and was unconscious for some time. When he awoke, he assured me that he was uninjured,' he replied, his voice taking on a hint of panic.

Her warm, brown eyes flickered back to the man behind them.

'Did it occur to you that he hid the truth, so you could concentrate on bringing me back?'

Arthur blanched. It had, but only for a moment – he was so caught up in the joy of having his Gwen back, the well-being of his best friend left his mind completely.

Gwen admonished him silently and leant forward to let her husband dismount the horse.

The raven haired youth was bent over in the saddle, his grip so tight on the reins his knuckles where white.

'Merlin,' Arthur began softly, approaching the slowing steed, feeling incredibly guilty upon seeing the pained look on the boy's pale face.

His manservant blinked owlishly, his eyes red from exhaustion. 'Arthur...why have we stopped?' he slurred, the words tripping over his heavy tongue.

Arthur swore colourfully. How could he have not noticed his friend's condition deteriorating before him?

'Because you, _Merlin_, being the stubborn arse that you are, failed to tell me that you were hurt,' he replied, his arm snaking around Merlin's waist to lift him from the horse.

The young man cried out – no...he _screamed_ at the gentle touch, and Arthur jumped away, confused .

He swayed in the saddle, his eyes sliding shut as he fell to the side. The King was spurred into action and he gripped the young man, slowing his descent.

Sir Mordred, upon hearing the pained scream, stopped the horse and jumped from its back.

'What's going on, Sire?' he inquired, looking upon Merlin, who was now lying in the King's lap, movements sluggish.

'He lied to us – he said he was alright...but he isn't' Arthur said, fear lacing his words.

Mordred crouched beside his King, and they both watched as Gwen, being the gentle soul that she was, went into nurse-mode.

She looked up at her husband, her heart wrenching at the look of panic in his eyes.

'Arthur, I need you to keep him absolutely still for me, ok?' she asked, gripping his hand gently. She turned to her injured friend and touched his brow gently. 'Merlin, can you hear me?' she asked, noting the sweat that beaded upon his alabaster skin.

He nodded almost imperceptivity and his blue eyes opened slowly. She gave him a caring smile, and tried to smooth the frown of pain that wrinkled his brow. 'I need you to tell me where it hurts the most,' she said, cupping his sculpted cheekbones.

'M-my chest,' he murmured, eyes rolling up to meet Arthur's.

Gods above, hurt was a vast understatement as far as he was concerned. Every breath he drew brought stabs of pure agony to his lungs, and he could taste metallic wetness at the back of his tongue. Even if the internal injury was not too bad to begin with, he had let it go unchecked for far too long, and now he was suffering with a pain he never would have thought possible.

Gwen lifted his tunic tentatively and fell back with a gasp of horror, her hands flying to her lips.

His entire chest was mottled with purple and red, bruising so _harsh_ she now understood the scream of utter agony that flew from Merlin lips earlier.

Three ribs poked through the skin of his chest, blood pooling at the wounds and the others crushed inwards, no doubt lacerating his lungs.

Composing herself, she gently probed the area, eliciting a small cry from the boy and blood splattered his pale lips.

'Gods Merlin, why did you not say anything?' Arthur gasped, leaning over to inspect the damage himself.

'You had to save Gwen...' he whispered, coughing deeply – splashing the king's face with red. Arthur flinched, but not in disgust. He was rattled. This injury was so _severe_; he began to fear for Merlin's life.

Tears fell from Guinevere's eyes unbidden. This unbelievably sweet man had kept his injuries to himself for _her_, so Arthur could continue the quest and bring her mind back.

'Oh _Merlin_, you stupid man..._why?' _ Gwen asked, leaning down to kiss his brow.

He smiled. 'Because...it was breaking Arthur's heart to know you had suffered at the hands of Morgana for so long...he needed you back more than he needed me to be alright,' he explained tiredly.

Mordred gripped his shoulder.

'You should have _told _one of us,' he said softly.

Merlin shook his head. He couldn't explain to them why...he wouldn't have been able to save Gwen with magic if they made him turn back.

Gwen peered up at Arthur, her eyes full of fear and guilt.

'We have to get him to Gaius, _quickly._ He is bleeding internally and...'

'He could drown in his own blood if we don't hurry,' Mordred finished when she could not.

With a nod, Arthur lifted the young man into his arms, biting back the tears that were beginning to fall at his screams of pain.

'Leave me...' Merlin gasped, blood bubbling forth.

'I will not,' the King replied, cradling him.

'_Please –'_

**'No,'** he said firmly, holding Merlin to his chest. 'Mordred, ride back to Camelot as hard as you can, and tell Gaius to ready his chambers. We will be as fast as we can,'

The young knight nodded in assent, running back to his steed and mounting it smoothly. As he disappeared at a gallop, Arthur turned to his wife.

'I don't think he should ride...we are close to Camelot now, less than a day – but riding will not be good,'

Gwen nodded, and gave him a tired smile. 'He will be alright, love. He is strong,'

Arthur looked down at his friend, who was now blissfully unconscious. 'We must not tarry then, my Queen. I fear he has not the time,' he responded gravely.

As they began to walk, Gwen leading the horses, he prayed silently that the boy would live.

***~*M*~***

Merlin came to himself slowly. He could hear murmured voices and firelight flickered in his vision. He was lying in a large, soft and comfortable bed – surely not the King's?

He tried to sit up, but cried out as the pain threatened to pull him under once more.

'Hush Merlin, sit back boy, or you will damage yourself further,' came Gaius' gentle voice. His vision swam as he struggled to get out of bed. 'C-cant be in Arthur's bed,' he stammered weakly.

'Calm down, you _idiot_, Gwen is resting in our bed. Gwaine came out to meet us in the courtyard when we returned – he insisted we brought you to him chambers,' the King said gently, stepping into his vision. 'Didn't I tell you some years ago, after that incident in the cave, that you _weren't_ to scare me like that again?'

Merlin met his pleading gaze and found himself smiling.

'I don't remember promising _anything_,' he replied, nestling into the soft downy pillows. 'Where is Gwaine, anyway?'

Gaius smiled and rested a hand upon Merlin's forehead. 'He was feeling slightly ill after witnessing the impromptu surgery I had to perform to keep you alive. He has gone to clear his head and get us some food. He will be happy to see you awake,' the old Physician explained with a tired smile.

It was as though the mere mention of his name was a summons, and seconds later, the young and scruffy Knight pushed the door open with his foot, as his hands were full with a tray laden with every kind of food imaginable.

Upon seeing the delicious morsels, Merlin found that he was incredibly hungry, despite his pain.

Gwaine set the tray down on his table and grinned at the now conscious servant.

'Good to see you awake, mate – you had us all a bit worried, especially _princess,_'

Arthur glared at the Knight but remained silent.

'How did you get so much food, Gwaine?' He asked, eyeing the pile of delicious looking food, which sat so far away from him. The Knight followed his gaze and chuckled.

'As soon as they found out about your plight, they were only too eager to provide you with nourishment, and a young maid,' he began, reaching for the tray and producing a small, but incredibly beautiful purple blossom from amidst the feast. 'Told me to give you this. She told me to give you a kiss too, but I politely declined and encouraged her to do it herself. Pretty young thing she was,' he finished with a wink.

Merlin flushed as he took the flower gently. A small knock sounded at the door, and Gwaine raised his head slightly, a secret smile on his lips. 'Ah, that would be the young lass now,' he murmured, watching Gaius open the door.

'I brought some fresh water for Merlin,' came a timid voice.

If it were possible, he blushed further.

Arthur chuckled as the young woman entered. She was indeed, very pretty – and her cheeks went pink upon seeing Merlin examining the flower intently. He looked up, his gentle cobalt eyes, peering into her wide green ones.

'Thank you, miss,' he breathed, placing the bloom on his chest as she approached.

Gwaine laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. 'Sorry love, I couldn't bring myself to do it,' he grinned.

Merlin saw the girl take a deep breath and stride towards him. He had no time to think before her lips were on his, ever so gently, kissing him.

He relaxed slightly, and was a little disappointed when she pulled away, bowing deeply.

'I hope that you feel better soon, Merlin,' she murmured – racing from the room.

Arthur chuckled upon seeing the look of embarrassment on his friends face.

'I couldn't have said it better myself,' Gwaine said with a grin, tousling his hair.

'Shut up,' Merlin mumbled with a smile of his own.

As he settled down to eat, he swore he would find out the name of this girl and make it up to her.

* * *

**Couldn't help it – that little OC was an afterthought, really! Hoped you enjoyed it!**

**Next prompt goes to both HakuHunterNatural + readernurse (again with similar ideas) - 'What if' SE03EP2**

**Kilgarrah is unable to cure Merlin of the Serket's poison and he has no choice but to return to Camelot in his state?**


	8. Venom - Part one

**A/N:**

This next one is for both HakuHunterNatural + readernurse (again with similar ideas) - AU to the Tears of Uther Pendragon part 2.

Also, sadly not the best title – I try to play with them as much as I can, but this one was difficult. I didn't to go with the obvious 'Tears of Arthur Pendragon'

***Insert standard **_**'I do not own Merlin'**_** disclaimer here***

**CHARACTERS: **Arthur, Merlin & Kilgarrah

**RATED: ** T

**GENRE: **Hurt/Comfort

_WHAT IF...S03EP2, The tears of Uther Pendragon - Kilgarrah is unable to cure Merlin of the Serket's poison and he has no choice but to return to Camelot in his state._

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**Venom **

Merlin was on his knees before the blonde witch, chains entwining his lithe form as the woman looked down at him with contempt in her cold, brown eyes.

'You intrigue me, Merlin.' She began slowly. 'Why does a lowly servant continue to risk everything for Arthur and for Camelot?'

The young man averted his gaze. He did not wish to look upon the woman who had corrupted and turned the King's ward to the side of evil.

'You know the answer, but you're not telling me. Why?'

Merlin swallowed the lump in his throat, but still did not meet her eyes. Panic was beginning to bubble forth as he tried to squash the magic that desperately tried to escape.

'Come on, time and again, you have put your life on the line,' Morgause pushed, crouching by Merlin. 'There _must_ be a reason,'

The youth swallowed painfully, his cobalt eyes meeting hers briefly. 'I believe in a fair and just land,' he responded with conviction.

The witch smiled coldly. 'And you think Arthur will give you that?'

'I know it.'

Morgause rose and began to circle the boy, like a vulture waiting for death to feed upon.

'And then what? You think you'll be recognised, Merlin? Is that it? All this so one day, you can be serving boy to the king?'

Merlin tried not to look at her. She was cold and unforgiving and he _feared_ her. The eyes that held no warmth or sympathy narrowed, as she inspected the boy.

'No...There's something more. Something you're not telling me, isn't there?'

The warlock met her gaze again firmly. 'I told you,' he murmured, trying to hide his panic.

She gave him a cruel half smile. 'Well...you can take your secret to your grave,' she spat, towering over him – her eyes flashing golden. _'Weorp Untoworpenlic!' _

The chains that bound him glowed and crackled, tightening around his slight frame.

Merlin winced as the constriction left him breathless and watched as Morgause and the two men that had knocked him unconscious, disappeared over the ridge.

He was alone.

A slight breeze rustled through the undergrowth, and somewhere close by a twig snapped.

Panic rising as the young Warlock sensed _something_ approaching, his eyes flashed gold.

'_Abrecap Benda,' _he incanted, desperate to escape his bonds.

The chains tightened, crushing his lungs – but he tried once more, his cerulean eyes catching movement from beyond the tree line.

'_Irenfaestnunga onlucus me!' _Merlin cried in desperation as the first monsters appeared.

The beasts were frightening – large and well armoured, they scuttled into the clearing on many legs, their large stingers bobbing in anticipation at\the morsel struggling before them.

'_Min Strengest miht hate pe tospringan!' _He bellowed – but it was no use! The chains pulled tight again, and Merlin's eyes watered at the strain.

More of the creatures were approaching from all directions. Small boulders tumbled from the outcrop behind him and he turned to the closest monsters.

'_Anwendap eft wansaeliga neatu!' _

With a flash of gold, his eyes shimmered and few of the creatures stumbled backwards – but it wasn't enough. They merely shook their great bodies, as though the spell was simply a nuisance.

Merlin tried to compose himself – there _had _to be a way to get rid of them!

'_Forletap me a –' _

Pure, burning agony sliced between his shoulder blades, and he grunted – his features contorting in pain and fear. Hot blood trickled from the wound in his back, mingling with the salty sweat that coated his skin as he pitched forward.

He could feel the venom at work already, coursing through his veins – but he could not give up. Not now.

There was one more thing he had yet to try.

With a deep breath, he reached for the powerful magic that pulsated at his very core.

'_O Drakon!' _He bellowed at the sky, his head thrown back as the magic words tore from his lips. '_E male ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!'_

The powerful words of the Old Religion fled through the land, and the Dragon heeded his cry.

With a gasp, Merlin fell backwards, waiting for death and _praying _for it, when flames, hotter than a forge, blasted through the clearing, setting it alight.

The monsters shrieked and scuttled backwards, the conflagration consuming their brethren as the Great Dragon descended upon Merlin.

Black spots danced within his vision as giant claw grasped his midsection, and as he was lifted gently to the skies, Merlin fell into darkness.

***~*M*~***

His fingers twitched and pain overwhelmed his senses as he returned to them. Sweat dripped from his brow as he shifted in the cool grass and he slowly opened his eyes.

Merlin blinked the cobwebs away and forced his vision to focus, his eyes widening at the magnificent beast before him.

'I didn't think you would answer my call,' the Warlock said weakly, tremors wracking his limber frame.

Kilgarrah blinked his great golden eyes and tilted his head.

'Merlin…' the Dragon began - his voice as old as the earth itself. 'I could not resist a Dragonlord, even if I wanted too,'

The youth gave him a small smile, 'I'm grateful...thank you,' he panted, his chest heaving.

He tried to prop himself up the get a better view of the creature, but dizziness and pain overwhelmed him.

'Ow...my head,' he breathed, lying back slowly.

'Lie still, the Serket's poison is strong. I am sorry young Warlock – I have attempted to heal you of the poison, but it seems the incantation used to bind you has seeped into your core, preventing magical healing...'

Merlin sighed. _Of course..._he thought tiredly. Of course this would happen.

'I will rest only until the sun rises...then I will head for Camelot,' Merlin decided, trying to warm himself. 'How far are we?'

The Great Dragon chuckled. 'We are just a short walk from the gates. I have cast an enchantment to ensure we are not seen or heard in this clearing. Rest, young one...and hopefully the old man will think of something.'

The youth nodded carefully, the sudden movement blurring his vision. He closed his eyes.

Merlin drifted in darkness for what seemed like eternity, before a light nudge brought him back. His breaths came in harsh gasps as he opened his eyes, and it seemed that there were two worried dragons, peering down it him.

'Much as I detest to do so, Merlin – I must leave, and you must head to Camelot. I know that your strength wanes, but if it fails any further, there will be no hope, and you shall die,' Kilgarrah said gravelly, assisting the poisoned boy to his feet with an ivory claw.

Merlin swayed on the spot, drool spilling from his slack jaw. He tried desperately to spit it out, but found his mouth was not working.

With a jolt of fear, he turned away from the Dragon, and with heavy limbs, the young man stumbled his way back to Camelot.

***~*M*~***

Gaius was neatly recording his potion stocks when a very flustered Arthur slammed into the Physicians Chambers, brandishing a crossbow.

'Where is that _halfwit_?' He demanded, his furious eyes searching for any sign of the boy.

'Merlin?' The old man asked feebly, although he knew that the young Prince had obviously meant his ward.

'I've got no socks, no breeches and an archery lesson to go too. Merlin!' Arthur snapped in response, still peering around.

A loud thud at the door caught the Princes attention and he spun on his feet, hands crossed impatiently over his broad chest.

The aforementioned manservant leant against the door jamb, panting slightly – sweat beading his brow. The young man stumbled forward, catching himself on the edge of a workbench.

'Drowning your sorrows at the tavern _again_ Merlin?' Arthur asked with an annoyed tone.

Merlin grunted, his eyes wide and glazed as his legs collapsed from under him, leaving him clinging desperately to the table.

'He's not drunk, sire,' Gaius managed softly, watching the expression of anger on Arthur's face morph into something akin to worry.

The dark haired youth tried to pick his legs up and stand once more, but fell forward, his eyes rolling back into his head.

The prince lunged forward and grabbed the boy around the midsection, slowing his inevitable descent.

That's when he noticed the bloody wound on his back.

'Gaius!' He called, frantic worry in his voice. 'He's been stabbed!'

Only Merlin, the _idiot_, could wake up in the morning, trip on his impossibly long limbs and land face first into some sort of trouble.

Only that usually meant stumbling up stairs, falling in a badger-hole, or giving himself a concussion whilst cleaning the King's armour – but this?

Arthur pressed his hand to the wound, flinching when Merlin groaned in pain and arched upward as his touch.

Gaius hobbled over as fast as his weary legs could take him, and peered at the young man who had become like a son to him.

He crouched wearily, ignoring the pop and creak of old bones and rested a palm upon the boy's cheek.

'He is burning with fever,' the physician said gravely. It seemed as though he was always saying something of the like when it came to his beloved ward. 'Could you move him to the bed, sire?'

Socks, pants and archery lesson forgotten, Arthur gave the old man a short nod, and lifted the light young man.

A pair of panicked blue eyes met his, and Arthur tried to reassure his friend with a smile.

'C'mon Merlin, you're like a sack of old potatoes...help me here!' Arthur huffed good- naturedly.

The young Warlock blinked, and tried to talk – but the only sound that escaped his throat was a cross between a moan and a gargle.

Saliva dripped from his lower lip, and as the King pulled him closer, he could feel his friend's uneven heartbeat.

With little effort, Arthur gently laid the boy on his stomach and without further instruction, began to slice the harsh material of Merlin's shirt away from the wound.

The regent almost gagged at the smell that invaded his senses as the deep gash oozed yellowing liquid.

The Physician joined them, minutes later with a bowl of hot water and a clean rag.

Merlin gasped and sobbed as Gaius cleaned the wound, the whole time, Arthur rested his hand upon the young man's shoulder.

'It's alright, Merlin. You'll be okay. I will find who did this to you and they will pay,' the king assured.

'Not a who, your majesty...it's more of a _what..._'

'S-serrr...' came a soft, slurring voice from below. Lips smacked and a grunt of frustration emanated from the injured servant.

Arthur crouched before him and gripped the boy's slack jaw with a firm hand. 'What is it, old friend?' he asked gently.

'_Serkss...'_ Merlin tried again, but his tongue was far too heavy to sound the word out.

'Serket's,' Gaius offered, although it was not a question. Merlin nodded eagerly, but regretted the movement instantly, as dizziness overwhelmed him.

Arthur's heart clench, and suddenly – he felt weak. He had heard of these creatures that roamed the forests. Their sting was painful, debilitating and in most cases, _fatal_.

He scrubbed a hand over his lightly stubbled jaw. 'You always pick the most interesting ways to get out of work, don't you, Merlin?' The Prince murmured, his firm voice betraying the emotions roiling in his chest.

'Artrr...' he managed thickly.

'It's Ok, I'm just kidding,' he assured quickly, worried that he had panicked the young man.

Merlin shook his head weakly, and clutched at his chest – his blue orbs widening.

'S-sick...' he managed with great difficulty.

'Yes _Merlin_. You are. _Again,' _Arthur sighed.

The boy shook his head again.

'Gon' be _sick,' _

As Gaius worked at the wound, Arthur grabbed the closest pail, and held it under Merlin's chin, wincing in sympathy as he retched.

'_H-hurts_,' Merlin whimpered.

The Physician abandoned his ministrations, and rounded the cot. Moving his hand gently from where it clutched at his heart, Gaius replaced it with his own.

'Your chest, my boy? Is that what is troubling you?' The old man asked, his lined brow crinkling further as he frowned.

'Y-yes,' Merlin replied, taking a shuddering breath. 'F-feels like _dying_,'

Arthur dragged his lower lip through his teeth. 'What's going on?' he demanded.

Gaius took Arthur's hand and placed it over Merlin's heart. The Prince was not expecting to feel the irregular pounding beneath his touch.

Gaius met his gaze. 'He is having heart palpitations, sire and his blood pressure is dangerously high,' he explained gently.

'What does that even mean?' Arthur cried.

'Do not move your hand, Arthur, not one inch. I need you tell me when his heart stops.'

Bewildered, the Prince looked down at Merlin, whose lids were fluttered weakly – long black lashes kissing the pale skin beneath. 'What do you mean, _stops?'_ He asked, his voice quivering.

The Physician held his gaze steadily. 'Merlin is having a heart attack, and I cannot prevent it. But you _must _be ready to turn him, so that I can get it started again,' he explained.

Arthur blanched. 'Will he die Gaius?'

The man hesitated. 'He may.'

He looked down again at the pale face of his best friend, to see that he had succumbed to the pain and exhaustion. That was when he noticed the unsteady thrum beneath his fingers increase rapidly before halting entirely.

With a choked sob, Arthur flipped the boy onto his back and stepped away, watching as though he was disconnected with the world.

Gaius discarded Merlin's tunic entirely and with his hands balled into fists, thumbed the boys frail chest.

'What are you _doing_ Gaius?!' Arthur cried, as the thudding continued.

'Shut up and hold his shoulders!' Gaius replied frantically, as Merlin took an almighty breath, and screamed as his eyes flew open.

Limbs akimbo, he began to thrash violently, cries of anguish escaping his lips intermittently as he seized.

Arthur held tight, his throat constricting painfully, helpless to soothe the boy's pain.

Slowly, _blissfully_ – the shudders ceased, leaving Merlin sweating and panting heavily in the bed.

'Gods above Merlin!' Arthur cried, as the tears he hadn't realised had fallen, dripped from his chin.

He looked up at Gaius. 'Tell me you can make him better, _please,_'

Gaius flinched at the pleading tone and sighed. 'I don't know sire...there is no cure for the Serket's poisoning. Either he will fight the venom and recover fully, or he will succumb and be lost to us within a matter of days. It is too soon to tell...'

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, trying to abate the overwhelming panic that threatened.

All they could do was wait.

* * *

**Sorry for the Cliffy! It was originally going to be shorter and then asked myself...who was going to stop Morgana and destroy the staff? Who was going to save the day? This will now be a two shot, with more angst and Merlin whump! **

**Stay tuned!**


	9. Venom - Part two

**A/N:**

Welcome to _Venom_ Part two! I would just like to take a moment to thank you all for your kind reviews! They keep me motivated! And also noticed – the smut idea was not well received! No worries, though! I am happy with (As **TeganL74** put it so amazingly) Whangamance, which is a mix of whump, angst and bromance! Epic, loved it Tegan! My new favourite term! (Maybe we should write FF and get it added to the Genre list :D)

**CHARACTERS: **Arthur, Merlin & Kilgarrah (Now featuring Gwen, Morgana and creepy, undead skeletal soldiers)

**RATED: ** T

**GENRE: **Hurt/Comfort

_WHAT IF...S03EP2, The tears of Uther Pendragon - Kilgarrah is unable to cure Merlin of the Serket's poison and he has no choice but to return to Camelot in his state. _

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**Venom – Part Two**

As Merlin rose from the dark of unconsciousness, the first thing he became aware of was the cool wetness on his brow, but it was the next observation that made him long for the oblivion of sleep once more.

A fierce burning agony pulsed through his limbs – every nerve ending was aflame as though caught in a dragon's inferno.

His lids fluttered as smells and sounds evaded his foggy senses. The air was heavy with the smell of coppery blood mingled with the sharp stench of sweat.

Beyond the walls, Merlin could hear shouting and the clash of steel and suddenly, he was awake.

The battle was upon Camelot.

The young Warlock shot up in bed and peered around, trying desperately to ignore the dizziness that sent the world tilting at the sudden change in position.

They were in the dining hall, which had been converted into a temporary hospital for those wounded in battle. He was among the wounded and dying...not outside in the battle with Arthur, protecting him – like he should have been.

A pair of small hands gripped his shoulders firmly and pushed him back slowly.

'Don't move, Merlin – you are quite ill,' came a soft voice somewhere above him. A young, beautiful face swam before his gaze, almond eyes filled with concern and fear.

Guinevere.

She cupped his too warm face with long, delicate fingers and ran her thumb softly along the ridge of his prominent cheekbone, a sad smile upon her lips.

'You've given us all quite a scare, Merlin,' she whispered, finally withdrawing her hand to reach for the cloth. 'Especially Arthur. He's been by a few times to see how you are,'

Merlin swallowed dryly, and tried to wet his cracked lips. Noting his discomfort, Gwen unstoppered a water skin and held it to his lips. 'Slowly,' she admonished gently as he began to take long draughts, the coolness soothing the ache at the back of his throat.

'He shouldn't be,' Merlin began; his voice soft and rasping from disuse. 'Coming to see me, that is. He's more important things to worry about at the moment,'

Gwen smiled and pressed the cool cloth back to his brow. 'You _are_ important to him, Merlin. He's always known it deep down...I think it was this, your condition that made him admit it. Gaius has had to order him away from you several times because he was getting in the way,' she explained with a small laugh.

The young man tried to return the smile, but he was just too tired. The pain was sending his mind foggy and his back was throbbing fiercely.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to open his eyes, watching the black sky outside of the window light up as an explosion rocked the castle.

Making up his mind, despite the illness and the pain, Merlin swung his legs out of bed and sat slowly.

'What are you doing boy? Lie back down!' Gaius ordered as he approached with clean rags and a bucket of water.

'I need to get to Arthur,' he began, noting that he was naked from the waist up. 'Where is my shirt?'

Gaius shook his head. 'You are in no condition to be going _anywhere_, foolish child!'

Despite his exhaustion, Merlin managed a wry smile at his guardian's expense. 'I have not been a child in sometime Gaius,' he pointed out, wincing slightly as his movements pulled at the wound on his back.

The old man sighed, and handed him a clean tunic as well as his travel-worn leather boots.

'You will probably go anyway, even if I forbade it,' he murmured.

Merlin nodded. 'I would.' He admitted gently, allowing the Physician to pull the coarse material over his head.

'Please reconsider...'Gwen whispered, tears pooling in her gentle brown eyes, even as she pull his boots on.

The young man gave her a quick smile and stood slowly, pleased to note that the world wasn't tilting nearly as violently as it had been.

With a sad sigh, Guinevere handed him a sword – It had once belonged to a Knight, but seeing the form next to him, covered completely by a white sheet, Merlin knew he had no use for it now.

He gripped the pommel of the weapon and gave Gaius a nod.

The old Physician pulled the boy close and gave him a gentle squeeze. 'You come back, you hear boy? Don't you dare go where I can't follow,' he choked, the emotion in his voice clenching at Merlin's heart.

'I will Gaius,' the dark haired youth replied quietly, pulling away from the embrace.

He turned and gave Guinevere a quick kiss on the cheek, and gripped her shoulder. 'I will take care of Arthur...you have my promise.'

Merlin strode purposefully through the rows of beds, determined not to let the venom overpower him. The room was filled with moans of pain, but he kept his eyes locked on the door as he pushed them open. He hesitated a moment, but did not look back.

***~*M*~***

With renewed determination, Merlin leapt down the steps, two at a time – his cobalt eyes taking in the madness around him.

The smell of blood and burnt flesh permeated his senses, and he was almost sick on the spot, but he shook his head. He had to keep running. He had to find Arthur, whatever the cost.

He was just rounding the well, when he saw the great ball of flame, heading for him. Feeling the searing heat against his skin, he dove to the ground and cried out as he rolled onto his back. The stitched skin tore, and hot blood gushed down his back soaking his tunic in seconds.

How he would have just as easily gone to sleep, right there – but he had a prat to save.

_Get up Merlin!_ He screamed to himself.

His lips clenched in a thin line of pain as he forced his screaming muscles to obey, and eventually, he found his feet beneath him as he stumbled through the wreckage of battle.

Merlin could hear the cries of battle increasing as trebuchets in the distance flung their burning projectiles over the citadel walls.

Trying to avoid another deadly barrage, he dropped and rolled, yelling as his shoulder slammed into the stones with such force that it jerked free of its socket.

The pain threatened to pull him under, but he forced the black dots from his vision and climbed to his feet with the aid of only one arm.

'Arthur, where are you?' he muttered through clenched teeth as he rounded the corner.

Eyes searching the crowd of retreating Knights, his eyes landed upon a familiar blonde mop, its owner struggling to drag his father, the _King_ back from the battle.

_**'Forbearnan**_,**' **he incanted as the enemy rushed forth. A wall of flame exploded outwards, stopping the charging men in their tracks.

He wasn't prepared for the massive power drain, and soon he was on his knees, gasping for breath.

Arthur quickly passed his father to a pair of Knights who are heading towards the makeshift hospital and crouched by his manservant, lifting his chin so their eyes met.

'What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?' he growled.

Beneath the fury in his cerulean eyes, Merlin notes the worry and the unshed tears that intensifies his gaze.

'Had to make sure you weren't killed, _clotpole_,' he replied softly, his breath hitching as another wave of pain wracks his weary body.

The anger melts away from Arthur's features, leaving only fear and deep concern for his friend.

'Come on, _idiot_,' the Prince said gently, trying to lift him. Unknowingly, he grabs his injured limb and pulls.

Merlin screamed; a raw and harsh sound that Arthur never wanted to hear again.

Bewildered, Arthur stepped back, as his friend slumped against the wall, drawing in deep gulps of air.

'M-my arm,' Merlin muttered, glaring at the offended limb, hanging limply by his side, while the other held the sword in a white knuckled grip.

The Prince pulled away the material of his jacket and bit his lip at the deep violet bruise that had begun to blossom.

'Dislocated,' he muttered, placing a large hand at his collarbone. 'Merlin, I have to pop the bone back in – I'm sorry...'

Arthur pressed down on his chest firmly and with a quick jerk, slipped the joints back into their correct place. Merlin cried out again but allowed his friend to pull him up.

'I think my stitches have torn too,' Merlin murmured, still feeling the stickiness against his back.

Arthur pursed his lips and held him up as they walked towards the hospital.

'You should have stayed in bed, like you were probably told,' he pointed out as they climbed the stairs.

Merlin flashed him a small smile. 'Yeah, but you know me...I don't often do what I'm told,' he responded weakly, despising the warmth that was drenching his body with sweat.

Very slowly, the pair made it into the makeshift hospital. Gaius fussed over Merlin, but the boy waved him away. 'It's not that bad, Gaius,' he assured, though he was lying to himself as much as to his mentor. He knew the Physician didn't believe it for a second, but out of respect, the older man ceased his constant ministrations.

'Where's Morgana?' Merlin asked the old man softly, his tired eyes sweeping through the mass of people.

'I...she was here only moments ago, Merlin. What is going on?' he asked, pulling him away from the throng.

'Morgana...she led me into a trap. She and Morgause...they are the ones that left me to the Serkets. They are behind the attack, and I know there is more coming.' The youth explained as he watched Arthur argue with his father.

He turned back to Gaius, trying to ignore the concern flickered in his eyes.

'I must find her.'

Without speaking to Arthur, he gathered what little strength he had left and ran for Morgana's chambers, hoping to head her off.

He was disappointed as he burst into her chambers, only to find in abandoned but as he turned, that is when it hit him. A wave of magic so dark, reverberated through his being, threatening to pull him to death – for a moment, he feared his heart had stopped.

Merlin took several deep breaths, trying to evict the darkness from his blood, and frowned. Cendred's attack...It must have been a diversion, so the pair of witches could prepare their magic for the battle...

Upon this realisation, the young man ran. He had to find Arthur again – but what would he tell him? He knew Arthur would throw him in the dungeon if he confronted him about Morgana. The Prince would never believe it unless he saw it with his own eyes.

No that was out of the question...but what? Maybe just not tell him at all and try to defeat her himself?

Merlin exited the castle once more, bounding down the stairs and into the courtyard, spying Arthur helping a young Knight hobble along in the predawn light.

'Merlin!' Arthur called, spotting him as two guards took the injured Knight. 'Where the hell have you been? One minute I'm talking to my father – the next I'm looking for you among the injured _hoping_ you would follow orders like a normal servant for once, only to find out from Gaius that you had something you needed to do that absolutely _could not_ wait!' He ranted.

'You were worried,' Merlin responded. It wasn't a question.

Arthur looked taken aback. 'Of course I was, idiot,' he murmured gently, pulling the boy into a one armed embrace.

Merlin peered over Arthur's shoulder, and the smug grin that was just beginning to form, fell from his features. He pulled away, staring as they melted from the shadows– magically reanimated skeletons grasping swords that approached with such swiftness it was frightening.

Noticing the look of utter fear on his comrade's face, Arthur frowned.

'What is it?' he inquired gently.

The young man could not find the words, so he settled for pointing with a trembling digit, his blue eyes holding disbelief.

Arthur turned, and stared for several moments before stepping towards them, sword raised.

Merlin gripped his heart. The adrenaline from the battle was waning and he was beginning to wish he had listened to Gaius. A thought struck him that should have occurred to him awhile ago. All the running around had likely pumped the Serket's venom faster around his body, and he could feel it, pulsating through his veins, entering his heart.

But it was too late for such fears now. There were more pressing matters to deal with first.

Merlin watched on in horror as the skeleton raised his sword and swung. Arthur easily parried the blow and struck back, steel clanging.

The creature dropped its defences momentarily and Arthur thrust his sword into where its lungs should have been.

Both he and Merlin knew it to be a futile attack, but anything is worth trying at least once when you're desperate.

The young man watched as the battle commenced once more, but his eyes were drawn away, when one approached him.

He swore internally, realising that he had left his sword in the infirmary, and searched desperately for one to use.

Merlin spotted a full scabbard draped over a barrel and pulled the weapon out in time to deflect the falling blow.

The young man grunted as the vibrations jarred his still sore shoulder and back, but he had watched Arthur enough in training to defend himself.

He slashed out, and surprised even himself when he caught the skeleton's arm with the blade.

It dropped to the stones, and the beast looked up, its eternal grin sending shudders of fear through his heart.

But the 'wound' did not slow it down, instead, its onslaught was more powerful and vicious.

Within moments, it had Merlin flat on his back, the wound hitting the stones tearing a cry from his lips.

A sword flashed above him and a new Knight took over the battle.

Close by, the detached limb twitched, and Merlin's eyes widened as it began to scuttle towards him, like a wayward crab.

Sure it no longer had a sword, and it was only an arm, but that arm could just as easily throttle him to death in moments.

Shuffling back in panic, Merlin lashed out with the sword, trying to crush the bones but missing every time.

He tried not to notice the trail of blood he was leaving in his wake, for it appeared to be an alarming amount.

Just as he began to hyperventilate, a strong hand gripped his shoulder, eyeing the trail too, with much concern.

'C'mon Merlin!' he cried, helping him to his feet. 'We need to get you to Gaius,'

The young man tried to argue as they raced up the stairs closest to the kitchens. They knew the skeletons would pursue them.

They turned back, only to see the shadow of one of the unearthly creations approach them

Merlin was willing to bet these skeletons came from the crypt, deep beneath the castle – and he knew that's where Morgana would be. Any second now, Arthur would tell him to get to the hospital. Merlin would argue – then he would run...but he would not be getting his wounds seen to. Not today.

Arthur turned back to Merlin. 'You need to get to the hospital. You're bleeding _everywhere_, and frankly I'm surprised you haven't keeled over yet.' He began. 'Warn Gaius and seal the doors.'

Merlin opened his mouth to argue, as was his way, but Arthur cut him short with a look.

The young man nodded, and continued up the stairs, but was stopped again by the Prince's voice.

'Oh and, Merlin? Don't go off and do anything stupidly heroic...I think you've done enough of that today,'

Merlin nodded, but guilt bubbled in his chest.

_Sorry Arthur,_ he thought to himself, knowing he was about to disobey a direct order.

He headed for the infirmary, knowing he still had to warn Gaius, but he would not be told to stay.

'Gaius!' he called, entering the dim hall. 'You need to seal off the hospital. Camelot is under attack from within,'

'What are you talking about?' Gaius asked, his eyes searching his ward for further injures. The boy looked like he could pass out from exhaustion at any moment, but the old man knew he wouldn't. Not when the fate of Camelot hangs in the balance.

'Morgana,' Merlin replied after some hesitation. He had to keep his voice down, so the King could not hear him.

'She's summoned an army of the dead. They're everywhere,'

He could not stay any more. Gaius had been warned, the hospital would be sealed, and hopefully he could get to the crypt and defeat Morgan before any of them killed Arthur.

'Where are you going?' Gaius called as the boy retreated. Merlin turned back, his eyes glazed with pain, yet so full of determination; the Physician couldn't help but feel immense pride in the young man.

'To try and stop her,' Merlin replied, dashing away before his mentor could stop him. Running away from the sounds of battle, the Warlock descended into the bowels of the castle, bypassing the dungeons and being wholly ignored. This suited him perfectly.

* * *

The journey to the crypt was swift, and as Merlin bound through the high stone entranceway, Morgana flinched, gasping in surprise.

It took her only a moment to smooth her shocked face into a dark smile.

'You should leave now...while you still can,' she said coldly, her jade eyes flashing.

'Morgana, please...I beg you-' the young man began before he was cut off by the sound of an explosion overhead. The ceiling cracked, sending a shower of dust and stones upon the pair. 'Women and children are dying. The city will fall,'

Her eyes held no emotion as her lips quirked into a lopsided smile. 'Good,' she growled.

Merlin shook his head slowly, feeling pity for the woman who stood before him. 'No...you don't mean that,' he whispered.

'I have magic, Merlin! Uther hates me and everyone like me. Why should I feel any differently about him?' she cried angrily, stepping forward.

Merlin desperately tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill. Guilt, fear and pain riddled his weary body.

'You of all people could change Uther's mind. But doing this...using magic like this will only harden his heart,' he said gently.

Morgana glared at him incredulously. 'You don't have magic, _Merlin_. How can you hope to understand?' she shrieked in reply.

The young man flinched slightly as she took a step towards him.

'I do understand...believe me,' Merlin began softly, his cobalt eyes pleading. 'If I had your gifts...I would harness them for good. That's what magic should be used for – that's why you were born with these powers.'

Merlin could tell he was failing – his words, which were only meant to placate only seemed to anger her further. That was when he began to fear it was too late to change her mind.

'You don't know what its like to be an outsider, to be ashamed of how you were born, to have to hide who you are!' She cried. 'Do you think I deserve to be executed because of who I am?'

The warlock shook his head slightly, and even that movement caused great dizziness. He was out of adrenaline – the pain taking over with a vengeance...but he couldn't stop now.

'No...It doesn't have to be like this. We can find another way,' Merlin pleaded as sweat beaded at his brow.

'There is no other way,' Morgana growled in response.

Merlin nodded sadly, surreptitiously eyeing the staff that was imbedded in the stone. He could feel her eyes on him as he pretended to leave, but she anticipated his next move.

He tried to swing his sword through the wood, but faster than a viper, Morgana lashed out with her own, the tip catching his abdomen and slicing through the pallid skin.

'What are you going to do, kill me?' Merlin asked gently, pressing hands against the fresh wound.

The witch smirked. 'I don't need too...the Serket's venom seems to be doing a _fine_ job,'

She was right, it was...his vision wavered slightly as she began to retreat, turning her back on the young warlock.

Without hesitation, Merlin picked up the sword and tried to attack, but she turned, meeting her blade with his.

_Swing, parry, swing, parry..._

Those were Merlin's thoughts as she descended upon him. At the moment, she had the advantage. The young man was gravely ill and bleeding, and her excellent skills gave her the upper hand.

But Merlin had a secret weapon up his sleeve.

Sweat dripped into his eyes, and he blinked to clear them, leaving him open for Morgana to slash him across the chest. He cried out and fell to his knees, spent.

She stepped towards him to strike the killing blow, but very quietly, Merlin incanted a quick spell. His eyes flashed gold and the ceiling crumbled.

With one last burst of adrenaline, he grasped his sword and raced for the staff. Swinging with all his might, the wood was severed in half – the resulting magical explosion sending him flying backwards.

He only managed to stay awake long enough to watch the ceiling fall...

***~*M*~***

After many hours of looking, frustrated and exhausted – Arthur finally found his useless, stubborn manservant. Morgana had been found also, unconscious, but relatively unharmed.

Merlin, on the other hand, was another matter entirely.

Once the young Prince caught sight of the neckerchief, bright crimson against his pallor, he rushed forward – heart racing, to shift the rubble that landed upon him .

He almost didn't make it, but if Merlin was stubborn – Gaius was more so, and he wasn't about to give up on his ward.

After hours of bloody, dirty work; Merlin lay in a comfortable bed, his wounds tended to and the venom leaving his body.

This was an unpleasant experience for Merlin, so Arthur did not leave.

He gripped the young man's hand and gently stroked the back of his knuckles with the rough pad of his thumb.

And he would stay like that until his friend protested.

* * *

**Sorry that took a while – bit of the old writers block! I have another request from Fran! I must admit, i do feel somewhat nervous about the next one!**

**SE4EP6 - A servant of two masters - Merlin manages to kill Arthur, and comes to his senses with blood on his hands.**

_Character Death..._

**Thanks for another hard one Fran :P**


	10. Going Under

**NOTE: **I know...I said this next one was for Fran, the AU to a Servant of Two Masters. I still haven't quite figured out how I am going to do it, so I thought I'd throw in a filler so you're not waiting too long – I watched a couple of scenes from _Parked_ and the violent, Merlin-whumping plot bunnies started to do a jig I could not ignore. So here is a little one-shot that wouldn't leave.

_**Disclaimer:**_** I do not own Merlin or Parked – I am merely playing. I cannot guarantee returning characters to their rightful owners unharmed. **

_**WARNING! Blood, cruelty and vicious men!**_

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**_**  
**_

**Going Under**

They have been watching the serving boy for some time now. He is clumsy, incompetent and he speaks to the King as an equal – to the watchers, this is abhorrent behaviour, the kind of behaviour he should have been executed for many times over. This confuses them; that Arthur tolerates it, even laughing along with the boy as they partake in childish banter.  
It is treason of the highest level, and the boy needs to be dealt with.  
_Severely.  
_They keep an eye on him for several more days, as he does his rounds – noting what he did and how long it took him. It keeps them fairly busy with the melee going on, but they usually take it in turns.  
It is when the sun sets on the last day, they take their chance.

The evening is chill as heavy dark clouds blanket the sky, obscuring the moon and Merlin hastens across the courtyard, barely suppressing a shiver as he moves. It isn't just from the cold. No, his skin is crawling uncomfortably, as though he is being watched from the shadows. He shifts Arthur's armour so it sits more comfortably in his arms, and continues on, bounding up the stairs two at a time.  
Two large shadows flitter closely behind.

The dark haired youth quickens his pace, the feeling of unease rising in his chest as his cobalt eyes flicker nervously around the empty corridors. A feast was currently being held for the closing ceremonies of the melee, but Arthur had excused Merlin so that he could attend to the chores he had missed while preparing the King for his rounds.

Merlin rounds the corner and quietly unlatches the door to the armoury, pushing the door open further with the tip of his boot.

No sooner does he place the armour upon the table, when two meaty hands grip his neckerchief and pull it tight, causing him to gag. Warm breath tickles his ear as he gasps for oxygen, but he can no longer draw in a breath.

'Not so cocky now, are we _boy_?' The owner of the hands growls, lifting him off his feet by the scrap of cloth around his throat.

Merlin tries to speak, tries to remain calm – but panic and unadulterated fear bubbles at the surface and he can feel tears prick at his eyes.

The man lets go for a second, only to slam the boy bodily against the stone wall and turn him to meet their gaze. The thick fingers grasp at the neckerchief again, and grips it tight, a scowl upon his ugly features.

'We've been watching you, little shite,' he hisses, the alcohol on his breath making Merlin gag. 'You prance around by the King like he's your friend, and yet you insult him to his face! You are a treasonous fool, and seeing as His Majesty has not the stomach to punish you, we _will,'_

The brute holding him draws his fist back and drives it into Merlin's nose. Hot blood bursts forth, coating his face in gore, but the men do not stop.

The warlock sees stars as his head slams into the stone behind him with the residual force of the blows, and he tries not to whimper.

He didn't dare reach for his magic. If they discover his power, they will likely use it to their advantage, and that is the last thing he needs.

Suddenly, the man lets go and Merlin crumples to the floor with a pained cry. Tears are threatening to fall, but he will not allow the jeering men the satisfaction of seeing him break.

Thick strands of crimson drip from his bottom lip as he drags himself towards the door, but the cruel hands are upon him again, turning him roughly and gripping him by the jacket.

'Where the fuck do ya think yer going ya wee lit'l bastard,' demands the other man, driving his foot into the side of his skull.

The young man cries out again, tears now falling unbidden as their heavy boots slam time and again into his wiry torso.

_Two, three_...Merlin counts miserably as he feels each rib snap. _ Five, six..._

'P-please...stop,' the young man begs, hating himself for sounding so small and vulnerable. They ignore his pleas and continue to kick him viciously, ensuring they have covered every inch of their victim with their boots.

Merlin groans as blood from the deep gashes on his temple and cheek bone mingle with the thick gore that sits on his tongue.

One of the men, Merlin was no longer sure who was who anymore, give him once last kick in the stomach, before fleeing the room.

The breath whooshes from his lungs as he curls into the tender spot. The burning agony that pulls at his chest forces silent screams from his bloody lips, and he cries silently – pain threatening to pull him into oblivion.

But he can't give up. He's bleeding a lot and it is so _damn _cold in here, he won't make it through the night if he loses consciousness now.

Weighing up his options when he is finally able to breathe, he drags himself slowly into a seated position and bites back a scream as he pulls himself to his feet with the long oak table as an aid.

Arthur...he has to find the King, whether his decision took him further into harm, he has no idea – he just stumbles along the dim corridor, one arm gripping his belly while the other used the wall as a guide.

Stairs present a particular problem, and he resorts to crawling, ever so gingerly – stopping every once in a while to empty his stomach of the blood that leaks down his throat.

A shriek of horror catches his attention and the sounds of breaking crockery make him flinch. A flash of white, a quiet soothing voice, and very pretty green eyes filled with concern tell him that he will soon have what he needs.

Merlin grips the girls wrist gently, his consciousness wavering as he fights hard to find his voice.

'The K-king,' he manages thickly. 'G-get Art-hur,'

The maid nods, wiping her eyes as she reluctantly let go of the beaten young man before her.

'H-hurry,' he gasps, his arms finding the next step as he continues to drag himself to the landing. If he passes out now, he will surely roll back down the stairs and break his neck.

He reaches the landing after five slow and agonising minutes – new tears mingle with the sticky blood as he weeps, not caring who can see.

Merlin places the flat of his palms against the wall, and with great difficulty, manages to get to his feet once more.

He can hear the sound of boots now – several pairs, gaining on his position. For a panicked moment, Merlin thinks the men have come back to finish the job, but Arthur and Gwaine round the corner and although he is relieved, all he can managed is a groan.

The young warlock manages a few more steps, before a sharp pain in his knees brings him to the conclusion that he has finally fallen.

Strong, gentle hands grip him under the arms, and turn him gently so that he lies on his back, staring upwards. Two faces, both holding much fear, Blue eyes, brown eyes – a humourless smile.

'I can't leave you alone for one minute, can I _Merlin_?' Arthur asks in gentle exasperation.

Merlin just blinks. He knows what Arthur is saying, but his mind is so fuzzy it takes him several minutes to respond. The young man blinks slowly. 'A-attacked,' he manages with a slur, and now Arthur and Gwaine are more worried.

Black dominates the majority of his cobalt irises, and blood still drips from his chin in thick strands. Merlin blinks again as Arthur unconsciously weaves his fingers through Merlin's unruly raven mop...he is confused. Why do they look so scared?

'Art-hur?' Merlin gasps, feeling more blood rise from his stomach.

The King settles him with a hushed breath, a gentle touch upon the brow. 'You c-can't see...you wouldn't know,' he whispers tremulously, tears intensifying his cerulean gaze.

Gwaine is there too, holding his hand – looking like he has seen a ghost, and still Merlin is confused.

'Oh my dear boy,'

Gaius is here, he's going to help. Merlin looks up at the two men that sit by him and gives them a reassuring smile.

''M ok,' he promises as the Physician crouches down to inspect the damage.

'He has taken quite a beating,' he admits gravely, but sights and sounds are swimming now.

Merlin blinks sluggishly, and hears Arthur say something in the distance. The youth looks up at the King. His eyes a red and it looks like he's screaming.

But there is not sound. He feels Gwaine shake his body, but he is so far out of it that it barely registers. Then the darkness creeps in, from the corner of his vision, and within moments – he is blissfully unconscious.

* * *

When he awakens next, it is light, and hunger claws at his belly. Merlin lets out a slow moan, and two figures stir from in front of the fireplace.

The King and Gwaine. It looks like they have not left.

'H-how long?' Merlin asks, his voice rough with thirst. He is pleased that he can no longer taste blood.

'About a week, mate,' Gwaine admits, ruffling his hair gently.

Merlin smiles at the gesture of endearment. He turns to Arthur.

'I-I'm sorry for disrespecting you, sire.' He says gently, his eyes refusing to meet his.

'You've never been sorry before – why the change of heart?' The King asks softly, his eyes watering.

Merlin doesn't answer, but it doesn't take a genius.

'Somebody heard you call me a clot pole?' he asks incredulously.

The young man nods, his eyes at the floor. 'Something like that, Your Majesty,'

Arthur grips the young man's chin and lifts it so their eyes can meet.

'Don't ever apologise for making me feel like a person.' He says gently, noting the fear in his friend's eyes. 'Don't ever stop being who you are, because then you would be like George, and I would have to fire you for being a dull boot-licker.'

This makes Merlin grin. His cobalt eyes sparkle impishly and Arthur punches him gently on the shoulder.

It might take a while, but Merlin knows he'll be alright.

* * *

**Hope you liked! You're next Fran!**


	11. A Servant of None

**A/N: **To my readers and Fran (aren't you guys lucky?) ...I hope this lives up to expectations. I must admit – it wasn't that hard... I had to put myself in Merlin's shoes and thought about how I would feel and what I would do if I lost my best friend and soulmate. This is what I came up with...let us see if the shoe fits, shall we?

**CHARACTERS: **Arthur (briefly) Merlin, Gwaine, Morgana

**RATED: ** M...

**GENRE: **Hurt/Comfort & Tragedy

**WARNINGS: **This one is dark, violent and quite shocking. Features suicidal themes.

_What If...SE4EP6 - A Servant of Two Masters - Merlin manages to kill Arthur, and comes to his senses with blood on his hands._

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**A Servant of None**

_Blood..._

Hot, thick, crimson gore coated his trembling hands as his mind slowly returned, piece by broken piece.

Merlin looked down, cobalt greeting deep cerulean. Cerulean filled with pain and shock and _betrayal. _

The King was confused...because Merlin did this – such a sweet and kind hearted young man turned on him in moments, pure malice in his usually gentle eyes as the blade of the dagger plunged into his flesh.

_Arthur's blood..._

His brow twitched, a frown beetling his dark eyebrows as he tried to remember. He looked at his hands – they were still shaking as they gripped the dagger...

The dagger that was currently imbedded in Arthur's midriff – the dagger that he...

Merlin swallowed convulsively, tears pooling in his wide orbs. The Formorrah in his neck was now dormant, leaving the young man to witness the damage it had caused.

He moved his hands from the hilt and stared at its intricacy, unwilling to meet Arthur's gaze as tears dripped from his nose.

'Why?' Arthur croaked weakly, his voice so shattered that Merlin wanted to scream. 'I thought we were friends...'

The young Warlock allowed a sob to escape his constricted throat and he squeezed his eyes closed, not wanting to see the pain in Arthur's pale orbs.

_'Merlin,' _

The young man whimpered, his lower lip trembling. 'Arthur...' he gasped, his heart clenching with such pain.

The King was slipping away and Merlin couldn't save him. 'I-I...' Merlin took a shuddering breath. He couldn't let Arthur die without him knowing that he would never hurt him on his own volition. 'After the rock fall...the bandits took me to Morgana...' he explained, finally finding the courage to meet Arthur's gaze.

He couldn't stop the tears or the pained sob as he cupped Arthur's jaw with gentle fingers. 'I didn't...I c-couldn't fight it,' he cried, his voice thick with emotion. 'She _stole _ my mind...she broke me Arthur, and..._I'm sorry' _

Arthur searched his eyes for any deception, and found that he could not believe sweet and loyal Merlin could ever lay a finger on him in anger.

He gave the boy's arm a reassuring squeeze and smiled. 'I believe you, old friend,' he gasped as a slow chill crept over his body.

This was it. Arthur Pendragon was going to die – King of Camelot for a mere six months, killed by his own blood through his best friend.

Who looked inconsolable.

His eyes were red and puffy, his face contorted with grief, and his body wracked with heart rending sobs. Arthur was dying – and Merlin would never forgive himself.

'Hold me, Merlin,' Arthur murmured.

The youth did not hesitate. He gripped the King with bloody fingers and pulled him close, pressing his cheek to his chest.

Merlin buried his face in Arthur's blonde mop and wailed, rocking backwards and forwards with his best friend pressed to his broken heart.

Several minutes passed, before Merlin looked down and saw what he only ever saw in nightmares. Arthur's eyes were open and unseeing, tears still fresh upon his pale cheeks.

He was gone. King Arthur was dead.

Merlin screamed, pulling his friend back to him.

'Arthur...come back, _please!_' he wailed, his voice cracking. 'I need you Arthur...'

He shook him, gently at first but soon the gesture became violent. 'Wake up, please wake up, please, please, _please_,' he begged.

Merlin barely noticed the others enter. Guinevere fainting, Percival carrying her away – Gwaine reaching out to him, tears wetting his beard.

The young man just wept, refusing to release the dead King to Gaius, lashing out at anyone who dare come near them.

That was then the grief changed. It was still there – it remained as before, leaving his soul a hollow void.

But then suddenly, he dried his tears, and finally paid attention to those around him. Pity, pain, concern...but he wanted none of it, through Morgana; he had killed his best friend. His _Destiny. _

Pure, unbidden rage rose from the depths of his very being and flowed through his veins with such heat, it was almost unbearable.

Slowly, carefully – he laid the King upon the floor and climbed to his feet, shaking now in fury. Gwaine reached out to grip his shoulder, but Merlin pulled away. 'Don't touch me,' he growled, his tone causing the Knight to flinch.

'Merlin, where are you going?' Gaius asked softly as the young man strode purposefully toward the door.

He turned back to his mentor, his cobalt eyes flashing gold for a moment.

'I am going to find Morgana...and then I am going to _fucking_ kill her, like I should have long ago.'

Without another word, he quietly left the King's chambers, leaving the Physician and the Knight in open mouthed shock.

It took them several seconds to recover from the darkness they had seen in the youth's eyes, the cold determination in his voice, when Gwaine felt an iron grip upon his arm.

'You must pursue him, Gwaine...If he murders Morgana, we will lose our Merlin,' Gaius pleaded.

The young Knight sighed. 'I think we already have...and I think I would kill her too,' he replied gently.

Gaius shook his head. 'You don't understand...he already has Arthur's blood on his hands, I truly believes he blames himself, and I don't think he will stop after Morgana...'

'He wouldn't kill out of spite, Gaius,'

'No...'

Understanding dawned upon his face.

'You don't think he would take his own life, do you?' he asked incredulously.

'I think he may try...'

And that was all he needed.

***~*M*~* **

Merlin rode through the Valley of the Fallen Kings at a gallop. He had not stopped, nor had he eaten since Arthur's death.

He just stared straight ahead, allowing his magic to guide him towards Morgana.

He was so close too...he could feel her darkness, her malice and her hatred, but it did not compare to his own – not by a long shot. The young man dismounted his steed and approached the hovel, his fists clenching and unclenching as he allowed his magic to flow through him.

With a deep breath, his eyes flashed gold and the rough wooden door was torn clean off its hinges.

'MORGANA!' He bellowed, stepping over the ruined door and into the dim cabin.

'You have magic,' she stated softy, a small smile curving her lips. 'A surprise, I must say...I feel lighter now. I take it Arthur is dead?'

With an animal scream, Merlin pounced, slamming the sorceress to the hard packed dirt. Her jade eyes widened in shock as his lithe fingers wrapped around her pale throat.

'M-erlin?' she was bewildered at his strength but tried to struggle nonetheless. He balled his hand and pummelled his fist into her face.

'Shut up, _bitch_,' he spat, pressing his knee into her stomach.

Morgana tried to laugh, but the fear in her eyes stymied the attempt to distract him. 'You can't kill me, Merlin,'

He punched her again, and brought his lips to her ears. 'I am your destiny...and I am your _doom_,' he whispered, leaning back and watching her face contort. 'You are Emrys...' she gasped.

Merlin gripped the hilt of the knife that rested in his boot and pulled it free of the supple leather.

'Yes...and you are _dead._' He replied coldly, raising the weapon above his head.

Morgana screamed as the glinting blade plunged into her flesh, hot blood spraying his face. But he didn't stop – not until she was long dead and he felt the gore drip from his bangs.

He slid back, his breath catching. He killed her...he had killed him. The last of the Pendragons were dead.

Merlin sobbed, the bloody dagger dripping in his shaking hand.

The sorceress was beyond recognition. A mangled mess of flesh and skin.

The youth vomited, and continued to cry as he pressed the blade to the soft underside of his wrist.

With a whimper, Merlin hacked into his flesh, his blood mingling with the others.

Punishment...for murder. Two in one day.

'Merlin, put it down mate,' came Gwaine's soft voice.

The young man flinched as the Knight crouched by him.

'I killed them, I'm evil...' Merlin sobbed, gripping his friend like his life depended on it.

Gwaine held the sobbing boy close, but did not utter a single word. He wasn't going to tell him it was alright, because that was far from the truth. He had lost his dearest friend, took the life of another and tried to take his own.

No – he wasn't ok.

Gwaine feared he never would be.

* * *

**Ok, so maybe it wasn't **_**that **_**hard...****I just hope I did that kind of scene justice! I hope you enjoyed it! Fran, let me know if it worked**

**Next one goes to Natcel – who has requested Merlin with a badly broken leg...any series. Stay tuned!**


	12. Fractured

**A/N: **

This one is for Nactel, who has requested Merlin with a badly broken leg...hope you all enjoy what has become a Merlin whump-a-thon! Loves it!

**CHARACTERS: **Merlin & Arthur

**RATED: ** back to T

**GENRE: **Hurt/Comfort

_What If...Merlin broke his leg?_

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**Fractured**

Merlin's raven bangs stuck to his brow as rain cascaded through the forest canopy. His face hurt from the constant scowl that he fixed upon the back of Arthur's head and the only pair of socks he had brought on this little excursion were so _wet_ that he was beginning to lose the feeling in his toes.

The Prince stopped suddenly, holding up his hand to indicate Merlin should do the same – but the young servant hadn't seen the gesture through the deluge and collided heavily with his master.

'_Mer_lin,' Arthur growled in exasperation, turning to fix the youth with a cold glare.

'What?' he snapped back irritably, his weariness causing to him to lose grip on his already tenuous patience with the prat. 'I'm cold, I'm tired and you're still poking around in the bloody forest with a sharpened stick looking for a meal that probably fled when the rain set in. What happened to _overnight_, Arthur?'

The young Prince ignored Merlin's outburst and continued forward stealthily, gripping his crossbow and loading it with an arrow. The bushes along the game trail rustled and Arthur took aim.

The lethal projectile whistled through the rain and Arthur grinned at the sound of an animal squeal – indicating his aim was still impeccable, even in the bad weather.

Merlin rolled his eyes and dragged his wet sleeve across the drips on his nose. 'Great. You've killed something. Can we head back now?'

Arthur reached into the shrub and pulled out a scrawny and very wet rabbit. Slightly disappointed at the meagre kill, he shrugged, removed the arrow and tossed the dead animal to Merlin, who caught it with deft fingers.

'Put that in your pack, will you Merlin,' Arthur ordered, wiping the blood from the steel tip.

The young warlock huffed and stomped after Arthur as he continued forth, following the high banks of the river. For several hours, they had been trying to find a safe place to cross, but the heavy rain had transformed the usually calm flowing stream into raging torrents.

'Why can't you put it in _your_ pack?' Merlin sniffed, mildly astonished that the complaint sounded so petulant.

The Prince sighed heavily. 'Because, _Merlin_ – you are a servant. And I am a Prince. I can't have that thing bleeding in my royal satchel, now can I?' he asked with a somewhat smug look upon his face. Merlin had a sudden urge to slap that stupid look off his face.

'Prat,' he muttered under his breath.

The pair continued on for several more hours, and the rain still had not abated. Merlin's worn travelling boots were caked in mud and he had started to shiver intermittently about half an hour before.

Arthur stopped again, peering over the muddy embankment and into the rushing water below. The steep incline to the water's edge was slowly disappearing under the swollen river, but the path down was still a perilous mixture of slick mud and jagged rocks.

'Wasn't there a bridge somewhere?' Merlin asked grumpily, eyeing the Prince dubiously. He had a feeling the idiot was going the throw caution to the wind and decide to cross right here.

'Washed away by the river,' he replied, testing the stability of the ledge. 'Before you ask – there are no others. We have to cross before the whole lot floods. We'll be stuck otherwise.'

He knew it.

'Fine, let's get it over with then. Move and I'll go first,'

Merlin nudged the Prince out of the way, ignoring his protests as he put his weight upon the seemingly stable ground.

Only, it wasn't so stable, and in just moments the muddy bank crumbled, leaving Merlin standing on nothing. Under normal circumstances, he would have landed harmlessly further down the bank, but the combination of slippery mud and wet boots sent the youth into a tumble.

'Merlin!' He heard the Prince cry in fear as he rolled down the steep incline. He thrust his leg out as he fell and it caught between two jagged rocks, jerking him to a stop as a sharp crack resounded in the deep gully.

White hot pain shot up the limb, causing his vision to blacken around the edges. His throat felt raw and it took him several seconds to realise he was screaming.

***~*M*~***

Arthur had tried to stop him, tried to tell him that the ground wasn't stable enough to take even his weight – but the damn fool didn't listen.

The young Prince watched in horror as his friend rolled down the bank towards the raging waters below, then almost sighed in relief when the boy's wayward tumble came to a halt just shy of the edge.

Then he heard the scream.

Such a hoarse, animal sound – laced with pure agony, and Arthur couldn't stand it.

'Merlin!' He cried again, dropping to his stomach as the scream died down to a whimper that was broken by harsh sobs. 'Merlin, what happened?'

He wiggled slowly through the mud, dragging himself so his upper body hung over the drop.

The sight of his servant, lying on his back – his alabaster skin paler than normal almost undid him, but he couldn't afford to go weak at the knees now. Not when Merlin needed him. He knew there was damage, but his angle didn't allow a proper examination of the boy, so very gingerly, he scooted several metres back, swung his legs around and dropped onto the muddy slope.

'Merlin, are you still with me?' he called out gently, not able to see whether the young man was still conscious or not.

A weak groan of assent told the Prince Merlin had not yet succumbed to the pain.

With light steps, Arthur picked his way down, gripping the boulders to keep himself from slipping. The closer he got to his fallen friend, the more intensely he began to worry.

Merlin's mud-streaked face was screwed up in a mask of pain, and violent shivers wracked his slight form as the Prince approached . When Arthur saw the state of the leg that was wedged between the two rough boulders, he almost lost his lunch.

Jagged bone protruded from the torn skin of his calf, and blood soaked the material of his breeches at an alarming rate. The gash was so wide and deep, he could see Merlin's muscles vibrate _inside_ his leg, and that was when his stomach _did _protest, causing the Prince to retch.

'Gods above Merlin,' he gasped, wiping the bile from his lips. 'You clumsy dolt,'

The boy didn't smile at the endearing jibe, he just squeezed his eyes shut against the pain and whimpered pathetically.

'Hurts,' he grunted, biting his lip and taking a shuddering breath. 'Arthur, it bloody _hurts_,'

Arthur crawled forward and pushed Merlin's sodden fringe from his brow. 'I know,' he whispered.

They were in quite the predicament, stuck down a muddy bank in the rain – but he had to try and move Merlin. The river was rising rapidly and the young man was losing a lot of blood. The Prince gripped Merlin's chin and forced him to open his eyes.

'I have to get your leg free Merlin, ok?' he said gently, trying to smooth the frown of agony etched into his forehead.

The young man nodded slowly and gritted his teeth as Arthur moved away.

Prince Arthur winced as he took in the boy's injury. Never had he seen a break so severe, and it was nauseating to see the torn flesh beneath his skin spurt hot blood down his leg. With some hesitation, he wrapped one hand around Merlin's too-thin ankle and rested the other firmly upon his knee.

He took a deep breath and turned to his friend, who was watching him with pain filled eyes.

'Do it,' he grunted with a nod. So Arthur did.

The scream before had been hard to hear, but this one...

This one suggested a whole new world of pain for Merlin, pain that Arthur never wanted the young man to feel ever again. He cautiously lowered the mangled limb to the ground and reached up to grip his trembling hand.

Merlin was still conscious, but barely. He had to get him back to Camelot as soon as possible.

Crawling back up by Merlin's side, he reached out and lifted his head slowly, fumbling for the knot of his trademark neckerchief that rested at the back of his neck.

'I have to slow the bleeding, but I don't want to push the bone back in...'

Merlin's eyes widened. 'Bleeding? What do you mean, push the bone back in?' He cried out hysterically, propping himself up on his elbows.

'No Merlin, you don't want to-'

The youth vomited, the contents of his stomach splattering his tunic as his eyes rolled back. Arthur caught the back of his head and lowered it gently as the man finally lost consciousness.

_Good_. He thought. It would make it a lot less painful for Merlin when Arthur carried him back up the embankment.

Squeezing out the soaked cloth, he tied it tightly just under his knee, hoping it would be an effective tourniquet until he could get him to Gaius.

With a grunt, the Prince lifted the light boy and draped him across his shoulders, leaving his hands free to climb up the slope.

Several times, Arthur nearly fell backwards, but after a gruelling thirty minutes, he was on flat ground once more, legs trembling with exertion.

He rested only for a moment, before gathering Merlin up and continuing back the direction they came.

Of course Arthur had been lying about the destroyed bridge – he was only going to let Merlin believe it for a little while, before admitting the joke and heading back to the citadel.

It had been funny then, watching Merlin scowl and murmur to himself. Funny up until he fell and broke his damned leg spectacularly.

Guilt welled up inside him as he trudged across the sturdy wooden structure, more guilt when Merlin stirred in his arms and woke, glaring at him through heavy lidded eyes before bursting into tears at the intense pain.

At the other side of the bridge, Arthur rested him against a tree.

'W-why did you lie about the bridge, clotpole?' Merlin gasped as Arthur inspected his leg. The Prince grimaced at the accusatory tone.

'I'm sorry Merlin...I wasn't going to be dragging you around much longer. I thought I would let it go on for a little bit, then tell you and we could laugh and go home,' he admitted. 'But you-'

'I fell and broke my bloody leg,' he spat.

Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat and reached up to grip the young man's shoulder, his eyes wet with tears.

'Yes...and I'm the biggest dollop-head Camelot has ever known,'

Merlin's eyes softened and he gave Arthur a small smile.

'The biggest,' he repeated, his eyes sliding shut.

He was out again.

Arthur sighed and picked him up once more. It was going to be a long walk.

***~*M*~***

It was past midnight when Arthur crashed through the doors of the Physicians chambers, effectively rousing the sleeping old man.

Upon seeing his ward unconscious and soaked to the bone in the dim firelight, he vacated the cot quickly and motioned for Arthur to put him down.

'What happened Sire?' he asked groggily, lighting some candles.

'He fell down an embankment in the rain. Broke his leg badly,' Arthur panted, accepting the warm blanket that Gaius draped over his shivering form.

The man was quiet for sometime as he inspected the wound, his mouth in a thin line of worry.

'We have to get him out of these wet clothes...hand me your knife,' he instructed, holding out his palm.

Arthur pulled it from his boot and handed it to him hilt first.

Very carefully, Gaius cut his breeches down the seam and pulled them off, flinging the ruined garment aside.

Wanting to help, the Prince pulled Merlin's tunic over his head and pulled a blanket over his pale chest.

'Will he be alright?' he asked softly, watching Gaius eye the protruding bone.

'I don't know Sire. Help me get some sleeping draught into him. He is likely to wake when I set the bone, and that will be less than pleasant,' he replied.

Arthur nodded and pinched Merlin's nose as Gaius dribbled the fluid in his mouth and rubbed his throat to encourage him to swallow.

The physician gathered some clean cloths and packed them around his leg before plunging his hand into the wound.

Arthur turned and threw up in a nearby pail.

'What are you doing?' he asked incredulously, watching Merlin flinch in pain.

Gaius did not look up from his task when he answered. 'I must ensure that the bone is set properly and doesn't interfere with any nerves or muscle. There isn't much displacement, so...'

With a grunt, the old man eased the bone back into place, connecting the two pieces to eventually knit.

He didn't say it allowed, but he knew Merlin's magic would fuse the bone initially, so that the natural healing process would be less unpleasant.

'Arthur, you go and get some dry clothes...I must stitch the wound now and ensure it is free of infection. Come back when you are warm and I will give you something to prevent illness,'

He was hesitant to leave, but Arthur nodded and turned to leave, knowing the worst had passed.

* * *

When he returned more than an hour later, Merlin was conscious and in minimal pain, thanks to Gaius's tonic.

'How are you feeling?' he asked, pulling up a stool and sitting by the bed.

Merlin gave him a small smile. ''M fine now, prat,' he slurred, burrowing into his pillows.

The prince ruffled his hair lightly, returning the smile. 'Good...that's good,' he replied, still feeling guilty.

The young man sighed and looked down at his useless leg. 'I won't be able to use it for a month or so,' he said grimly, before turning back to the Prince to give him a wry smile. 'Maybe you'll think twice about lying to me next time Arthur. Now you're stuck with George.'

'Merlin?'

'Shut up?' he ventured.

Arthur punched him gently in the arm. 'You know Merlin, sometimes you _are _smarter than I give you credit for.'

* * *

**Likey? I hope so! **

**Next prompt goes to Synk, where Merlin ends up with a bad back from being thrown into too many walls!**


	13. A pain in the backside

**A/N: **

Sorry for the delay guys! I was so busy trying to organise a cake for my Fiancés 21st over the weekend, but here is the next chapter… It is another one from Synk

Thank you all for all the reviews and support and happy 100th to me! LOL

I will be continuing the Blood Spell, however as this one is clearly more popular, you can tell which one I spend most of my time on!

**I do not own Merlin…but I do have a cat that would resemble him, had Merlin been turned into one …He even has a little neckerchief!**

**CHARACTERS: **Arthur & Merlin

**RATED: ** K

**GENRE: **Humour - ish & Hurt/Comfort. Some Arthur/Merlin bromance and teasing

_Set after The Coming of Arthur – What if, after being thrown into walls on many occasions, Merlin ends up with a bad back and what happens when he falls and can't get back up again?_

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**A Pain in the Back…side**

It was a beautiful, warm day - however the fresh air did nothing to improve their moods as Prince and servant rode through the forest in silence, dappled sunlight dancing through the thick canopy.

Several weeks had passed since Morgause's immortal army had stormed Camelot, bringing with them the Cup of Life – and Merlin suffered, as always, in silence.

With a wince, he leant forward in the saddle, gripping the reins one-handed while his other pressed at the small of his back.

Beneath his pale skin, muscles spasmed and a harsh stabbing pain shot down both of his legs. The youth bit his lip to stop from crying out, but still a small whimper escaped.

Arthur turned in his saddle and gave the boy a scathing look. 'Your little bottom already sore, Merlin?' he asked with a smirk ad Merlin readjusted himself atop the steed.

The young man glared at the Prince coldly as he tried to get into a position that didn't send waves of agony coursing through his muscles.

'Well, I don't have nearly as much padding as you do Arthur…and I am not talking about your royal saddle,' he shot back. 'Besides…It's my _back_, if you must know.'

Arthur snorted derisively, but flashed him a grin – not caring that Merlin was _clearly_ not in the mood for his mockery.

'Well, that's what happens when you laze about _Merlin_. Your muscles go sloppy.'

The dark haired youth rolled his eyes. He had been far from lazy – in fact, despite being in constant pain, he had not yet uttered a word of complaint at the increase of his workload following the attack.

Only this morning, he had seen the external damage to his body in the dusty mirror in his room – but he wouldn't mention it, not even to Gaius.

'Shut up, cabbage – head,' he replied with frustration, the twinging increasing as the forest floor became uneven and rocky.

Thus far, the forest had been silent, but Merlin was now aware of a soft hissing, coming from the undergrowth. Bewildered, he peered over the side of the mare and paled at the large black snake that had slithered onto the path before him.

Usually his steed was calm, but the last few weeks had been trying on them all, and the horse began to dance nervously, her eyes rolling in fear as the snake spat.

'Arthur…' Merlin called softly as the mare became more agitated.

'Gods above, it's just a snake! Get her under control you _dolt_,' Arthur exclaimed, bringing his own ride to a halt.

The snake struck out and the horse screamed, rearing up on her back legs and unseating the unfortunate rider.

As Merlin struck the rocky ground, a cry of pain flew from his lips as something in his lower back crunched loudly. The youth grew pale as he watched Arthur dismount, kicking the offending reptile into the bushes.

'Get up Merlin, now is not the time to rest,' Arthur chuckled, calming the mare.

The young man whimpered as he tried to move. 'Arthur…' Merlin gasped, lifting his head.

Sensing the panic in his friend's voice, the Prince's gaze softened as he crouched by the fallen man.

'C'mon Merlin…time to get up,' he murmured softly, his brow crinkling into a frown at the look of pain on the youth's face.

Merlin twitched spasmodically and cried out, agony stabbing at the base of his spine.

'Merlin?' Arthur asked, a tone of worry entering the quiet inquiry.

The boy's breath hitched and quickened alarmingly. His face was pale and he squeezed his cobalt orbs shut as he tried to steady his breaths. He felt Arthur grip his shoulder, and gently brush the dark locks from his sweat soaked brow.

'Merlin, what's going on?' he asked, the soft command making Merlin shiver.

The young man said nothing, but continued to twitch painfully, the movements eliciting small whimpers of discomfort.

After several minutes, the cobalt reappeared beneath heavy lids, glazed with pain and confusion.

Despite the cold feeling of dread that had slipped into his gut upon witnessing his best friend writhe in the dirt, Arthur gave the boy an encouraging smile and stuck out his hand to help him to his feet.

The young warlock accepted the proffered limb, but as Arthur began to pull him up, another burst of searing agony jolted his body, Merlin's legs gave way.

Black spots swirled in his peripheral vision as the young Prince caught him mid slump and lowered him slowly, the rest of the way to the ground.

A fierce tingling crept up from the tips of his toes, slowly engulfing his legs with pins and needles.

Arthur tried to adjust the youth so he sat back into the Prince, but froze as a strangled sob slipped through his parted lips.

'P-put me on my stomach, _please_,' Merlin whimpered, his body trembling.

With a nod, Arthur carefully slid out from beneath him and turned him with as slowly and gently as he could – trying to block out the sounds of distress.

The dark haired youth rested his cheek in the dirt, his harsh breaths sending the dry leaves upon the trail into a flurried dance.

Arthur bit his lip and crouched by his manservant, peering into terrified eyes.

'Merlin, what happened?' he asked gently, his fingers subconsciously threading the boy's raven mop. He blinked slowly at the gentle touch and sighed.

'I told you my back hurt, prat,' he mumbled tiredly, his glazed stare piercing the Prince.

Guilt niggled at the blonde regent as he gently reached back and lifted hem of Merlin's rough tunic.

He bit back a gasp of disbelief as his eyes met the myriad of splotched bruises that decorated his friends lower back. Some were old and fading to pale yellow, but most were still angry hues of red, purple and most disturbingly, _black_.

Beneath the damaged skin, muscles jumped and vibrated, sending a spasm of pain through Merlin's lithe frame. Arthur reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing the injury gently but he pulled back suddenly at the moan that his touch caused.

'What the hell happened to you?' The prince breathed, jokes pushed aside. This could be serious.

'I fell off the horse, remember?' Merlin replied, his eyes sliding shut.

Arthur rolled his eyes, sorely tempted to cuff the servant around the back of the head for being facetious.

'_Mer_lin,' he began warningly, his voice taking on that special tone of annoyance that was only reserved for his friend. 'Some of these bruises are weeks old, but most are quite fresh. Now tell me what happened or I will throw you in the stocks.'

The young man winced at the tone of his master. 'Do you want a list?' he replied.

Arthur glared at him and it was Merlin's turn to roll his eyes. 'Let's see…I got thrown into a wall with magic, I fell down the stairs carrying your armour, I slipped on a wet floor, my bed is _really _uncomfortable and **then** I fell of the horse,' he responded with one breath.

'Thrown into a wall by whom?' he demanded, anger boiling in his blood.

'Morgause, when the witches nearly took Camelot with their immortal army…I spilt the blood from the Cup of Life several seconds before I got an intimate introduction with the wall,' the youth explained in a strained tone.

'You _what?_' he cried, and through the anger, he felt a surge of pride towards his friend.

Merlin gave him a small smile and closed his eyes, exhaustion threatening to take hold.

The Prince smacked him gently upon the cheek and waited for the blue to reappear.

'C'mon idiot, let's go home,' Arthur said gently, squeezing his shoulder.

'I don't think it will be that easy,' Merlin replied, his eyes full of fear.

'I know you're tired and hurt, but you need to get to Gaius,'

'It's not that, _sire_…I would love to get up and walk back to Camelot. There's only one problem.' Merlin closed his eyes and a tear slid down his sculpted cheeks. 'I _can't_ feel my legs.'

***~*M*~***

Arthur's breath caught in his throat as the blood pounded in his ears.

_I can't feel my legs..._

The sound of fear and panic that laced those words would forever haunt the young Prince as the damn broke and Merlin began to sob openly.

'Are you sure?' he ventured, flinching at the cold glare that Merlin shot him.

'No, _Arthur_. I'm just being a girl's petticoat! Of course I'm sure.' He snapped, but suddenly regretted the tone. Arthur looked about as scared as he did. 'Sorry,'

Arthur shook his head. He didn't blame his friend. He was scared and it was an awfully stupid question.

'What can you feel? What hurts?' The Prince asked, settling down, cross legged, by the young man.

Merlin winced as another spasm shuddered through his spin.

'Ah...my lower back and my neck hurt like hell, but from the waist down...I'm completely numb,' Merlin flashed him a humourless smile. 'You may need to rehire George, sire – if this is permanent...'

The Prince pursed his lips, not wanting to aggravate the issue with harsh words. Instead, he climbed to his feet and grabbed the youth beneath the armpits in an attempt to lift him from the dirt.

Merlin yelped, his legs dragging uselessly on the ground as Arthur lifted him. His back stretched further, and the black dots returned.

'Arthur...p-please, it hurts. Please put me down...' Merlin begged, feeling bile rise from his stomach.

Arthur's heart clenched painfully at the whimper in his tone, but continued to lift him.

He only had to lift a little further before he heard the sickening crunch that emanated from his servant. The young Prince turned to Merlin to see his mouth frozen in an 'o', cobalt eyes crossing sightly before fluttering closed and slumping boneless into Arthur's arms.

The sound had terrified Arthur, even more so when the agony that Merlin was feeling sent him into oblivion. But he could not stop now. He had to get him back to Gaius before the paralysis became irreversible.

'C'mon, old friend,' he murmured, holding the boy close to his chest. He peered at the now calm horses and decided they would be safe enough for Arthur to leave. He would send his Knights to collect them once he returned to Camelot.

* * *

It took less than an hour for them to arrive back at the Citadel, and Gwaine met them at the main stairs, he eyes full of worry.

'What happened sire?' he asked softly, touching Merlin's brow.

Arthur sighed as the Knight followed him up the stairs and down the corridor towards the Physician's chambers.

'I will explain it soon enough,' he replied, his pace remaining steady and as even as possible. Gwaine went ahead to ensure Gaius was prepared and the door was open when Arthur appeared.

'Your Highness?' Gaius said imploringly watching as Arthur lay the unconscious boy on his stomach. 'What on earth is going on?'

Arthur pulled up a stool and sat by his friend, his fingers once more in his hair.

'The horse threw him.' He began. 'It wasn't that much of a fall Gaius, but when I went to check, He had so many bruises. Old and new. He told me Morgause threw him against a wall,'

The Physician nodded, confirming the tale as he inspected the damage. 'He was screaming in pain whenever I tried to move him ...he said he couldn't feel his legs,'

Gaius stopped for a moment, a frown beetled at his brow. He began to prod the area firmly, watching the Prince grip Merlin's hand when the pain reached into the depths of the young man's unconsciousness, eliciting a whimper.

'The paralysis is likely to be temporary. It is a worrying injury and I have only heard of it because of my time practicing magic before The Purge,' he studiously ignored the dark look that Arthur flicked away. 'I believe Merlin has a herniated disc in his spine – definitely caused by the wall incident, but only mildly so. I believe the fall from the horse caused it to tear more severely, thus the paralysis and pain. I will give him a pain tonic, however – he will be off his feet for the next month or so,'

Arthur nodded slowly, trying to ignore the look of horror on Gwaine's face. 'Thrown into a _wall?_'

He began to pace the room, watching the sleeping boy twitch. 'How did we not know about this?'

The Prince shrugged. 'I don't know Gwaine – but I left our horses about a quarter of an hour west of here. Could you please send some Knights to retrieve them?' he asked kindly, turning to him briefly before his cerulean eyes settled back upon Merlin.

'Of course, sire,' he agreed, exiting the chambers.

'I too must attend to my rounds. He will be ok Arthur...he just needs to rest.' Gaius assured, following Gwaine and pulling the door closed behind him,

When Arthur turned back to Merlin, wide cobalt eyes stared back.

'Merlin, there you are,' Arthur murmured gently. 'You always know how to scare your Prince, don't you?'

Merlin smiled sheepishly and tried to move.

'Stay still Merlin. Gaius believes that the paralysis will pass, but you're off your feet for quite some time. I may actually get some peace and quiet,'

Merlin snorted derisively. 'You're such a pain in the back...side,'

Arthur smiled gently and ruffled his raven mop. 'As are you, _idiot_.'

END

* * *

**Thanks for being so patient! The next prompt goes to Thismortalcoil &Camoc – AU of the Dark Tower, where Arthur gets taken instead of Gwen and Merlin saves Elyan with magic**


	14. The Dark Tower - Reprise

**A/N: **

I know – I've been taking my time, but so you know, I am working on a big one for Merlin that I have been researching. I'm pretty sure you guys will love it. It will be called '_The spoils of Annwfn'_ without giving too much away; it is based on an obscure 6th Century poem, written in Middle Welsh that was found in the Book of Taliesin. Keep an eye out!

This next one-shot goes to ThisMortalCoil (I have realised, I will have to do a separate chapter for Camoc, as the prompt goes with the canon episode of Gwen being captured)

As you are well aware, Merlin belongs to the BBC

**CHARACTERS: **Arthur, Merlin, Morgana & the Knights

**RATED: ** T

**GENRE: **Hurt/Comfort

_WHAT IF...S05Ep6 The Dark Tower - Arthur has been taken instead of Gwen and Merlin saves Elyan with magic_

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**The Dark Tower- Reprise**

_Drip…_

_Drip...drip…_

_Drip…_

Arthur flinched, feeling the cold, black sludge splatter his cheeks from above. The young King took a deep shuddering breath and tried to calm the panicked thudding of his heart – but the silence was almost as bad as the disembodied screams that had him crying in the foetal position for most of the previous night.

Harsh sunlight streamed through the bars of his prison, causing him to squint painfully as he looked up at the ceiling.

His bloody _sister_…he was going to kill her if it was the last thing he did.

Uncurling his body, Arthur stretched his painfully stiff muscles and slowly got to his feet. He peered at the bizarre plants that were hanging from the roof of his prison and tried to quell the lump of dread that had settled in the pit of his stomach.

This all seemed dreadfully familiar to him – it brought him back to a time when his father was alive, slowly driven insane by dark magic…It had been her!

The whole time, she had been playing the worried, heartsick ward…

His blood boiled as the memories returned to him with such painstaking clarity, that he thought he would cry with rage and grief. The young King settled, instead, for taking a deep, controlled breath and counting to ten.

'_Arthur…'_

The disembodied voice croaked.

His head whipped around, cerulean eyes searching for the source of the voice as his own name echoed around him.

'_Arthur….Aaarthur…' _

Turning rapidly on the spot, his eyes wide with renewed panic as myriad of different sounds overlapped each other, sending the young man to his knees.

Hot tears burst forth as he clasped his hands to his ears, pressing tightly to try and block the screeching choir.

'_ARTHUR!' _

'Shut up! SHUT UP!' He screamed – or at least he thought he had. He could not hear the words, but he felt them tearing at the back of his throat.

A cold, bony hand grasped his shoulder, and Arthur jumped, scrabbling away from the touch. 'Get away from me!' he shrieked desperately.

He opened his eyes and saw the cold, green eyes of his sister, staring down at him. She cocked her head to the side.

'I really thought it would take longer for you to break, _brother_,' she hissed, crouching before the cowering king. She gripped his chin firmly and peered into frightened blue orbs. 'Spineless…A King not worthy for the throne of Camelot,'

Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat as his determination returned slowly.

Blinking, he met the woman's gaze fiercely; eliciting a small twitch below her left eye, a twitch he knew was a sign of great annoyance.

'You will _never _have the throne, Morgana. Camelot is loyal to me and to me alone. They would never follow a tyrant Queen!'

The witch brought her hand angrily across the King's face, and the slap reverberated around the dungeon like an echo.

'I was just about to offer you a meal – but I think I'd rather you _starved_,' the growled vehemently, letting go of his face. 'Oh, by the way – your friends, they're coming. But I won't make it easy for them to rescue you – in fact, I have a little surprise up my sleeve. Sleep well, my traitorous blood,'

And when she slammed the door, he was left quivering in fear on the floor.

***~*M*~***

Crouched by the ominous tower, a wide cobalt gaze took in its harsh lines with much apprehension. Unable to voice his fear, Merlin merely swallowed the lump in his throat as he listened to the muttered words of the Knights that surrounded him.

'There really should be some semblance of a plan, other than barging in with swords drawn magnificently,' Sir Elyan pointed out, his dark eyes resting pointedly on Sir Gwaine, who was currently craning his neck in an effort to see the very top of the tower. Ears pricking at the mention of his fabulously thought out rescue idea, Gwaine turned to his comrades, a winning smile adorning his features.

'I knew you would see it my way,' he said happily, twirling his sword thrice before shoving it into the hard soil and leaning upon it like a crutch.

'You'll blunt your blade, doing that,' Percival muttered offhandedly, as though something like that even mattered at this point.

Gwaine, however, never refusing the chance to dabble in some light hearted banter, sent Percival a mocking wink. 'My blade will always be sharper than your wit, mate,' he retorted lightly.

As he listened, Merlin felt something that resembled a smile, quirk at his lips as he watched for a sign, any sign that could be indicative of Morgana's presence. Of course, she was a smart woman, but thus far, nothing had attacked them and Merlin saw this as a bad sign.

'Would you lot just shut up? I'm surprised your bickering hasn't woken the dead!' Merlin hissed, now fully focused once more on the task at hand.

Usually, such insolence from a servant of Camelot would have granted the young Warlock a stint in the stocks, but these Knights took his admonishments in stride, and were grateful of his attempt to focus them.

Silence now dominated as Merlin struggled to think. Obviously Morgana was expecting them, but for some reason, had not prepared for an attack in any way that Merlin could detect.

With a sigh, he swept his nimble fingers through his hair and turned to the Knights.

'As much as it pains me to say, I think we should go with Gwaine's brilliant plan - it's the only one we have at this point and we can't just sit around in the dirt and draw up magnificent battle plans when there is only _one door_.'

Merlin emphasised his point with a wave of his hand toward the looming building.

Gwaine's eyes were bright as he pulled his sword from the dirt and approached the young Warlock.

'Your faith in me is astounding, little man,' he said with a mock sniff, clamping his hand upon Merlin's lean shoulder. As he walked toward the door, he spared a glance over his shoulder. 'You great idiots coming, or what? There is a damsel in distress and I, for one could not possibly lose myself in drink if the Princess wasn't safe in his bed,'

With another dramatic twirl of his sword, Gwaine was off, his long legs eating up the distance to the single door. A collective sigh was heard, and Merlin turned to see the remainder of the men rolling their eyes as they withdrew their blades.

The young Warlock loped after Gwaine, hoping desperately that the dark feeling that surrounded him was naught but his own mind playing tricks on him.

***~*M*~***

The figure that was Merlin, but wasn't – towered over him, a look of malice and hatred furrowing his usually gentle brow.

'You're pathetic, sire,' not-Merlin spat, crouching down to lean in his face. 'You allow your sister to get the better of you...maybe she _is_ the one who should be ruling Camelot.'

Arthur whimpered and shuffled back, trying very hard not to look at the man who so closely resembled his friend. But this spectre wasn't Merlin. It couldn't be...not kind, gentle, sweet, thoughtful Merlin. This man was twisted, evil – just looking into those brilliantly cold cobalt eyes sent chills racing up his spine.

'Merlin...p-please!' Arthur said tremulously, backing into the wall behind him.

Long fingers wrapped around his throat and the thing that was most assuredly _not _his manservant, began to squeeze.

'Listen to yourself! You call yourself a King, when you so openly beg! Kings don't _beg_ Arthur...'

Suddenly a darker, more feminine hand came to rest upon Merlin's waist and Guinevere appeared behind him, her chin resting upon his shoulder.

'Mmm...you are so _delicious_ when you're angry, Merlin,' she purred, nipping his lobe. The youth growled in pleasure, but his grip around the King's throat lessened.

'Gwen..._no,_' Arthur murmured as he watched his best friend devour his wife with lustful lips. Gwen's dainty hand trailed from Merlin's waist to cup the front of his breeches. The King wanted to turn away, but he was transfixed as Merlin rutted into her touch.

'Please, _stop..._please!' he cried, as the dark haired spectre released him quickly, only to grasp his wife's breasts, squeezing and kneading roughly.

'STOP! STOP IT NOW!' Arthur bellowed, tears obscuring his vision as he clambered to his feet. He raced toward the couple cavorting before him, but the pair disappeared in a wisp of blue smoke to reveal...

Anger contorted his features as he gripped the throat of his traitorous servant and lifted him off his feet.

Cobalt blue widened in panic as his lungs screamed for oxygen. His vision flickered as he was slammed bodily against a wall, his legs kicking feebly.

'A-Arthur...p-p-lea-se, _please..._It wasn't r-real,' he gasped weakly. 'W-whatever you s-saw...It wasn't _real,' _

The King slammed the spectre's head against the stone, and watched with some satisfaction as the young man's heartbeat began to slow.

But the boy blinked, determined to go on. 'A-Arthur, you bleeding clotpole! It's _me!_

A flicker of recognition, but not enough for the King to loosen his death grip. Cobalt rolled into white and thick, dark lashes, wet with tears fluttered.

A laugh.

Morgana stepped out of the shadows, grasping a sword – a triumphant grin on her face.

'He would never have done that to you,' she said, her eyes flickering to the almost dead figure that Arthur had pinned to the wall. 'He would never do anything to cause you harm, and look...you've gone and _killed_ him,'

Arthur's cerulean eyes widened as he turned back to the figure that he held to the wall. Now that he looked, he _could_ see. The spectre seemed real and solid, but shone ethereally with brilliant blues and muted silver. The boy he held was alabaster and pale and _oh gods! _ He could only just feel his pulse, thrumming weakly beneath his hand.

'Merlin!' he gasped, relinquishing his grasp and watching in horror as his friend slumped bonelessly to the floor.

'You've gone and killed your best friend...how does it feel?' Morgana taunted, her eyes flashing gold.

The sword left her hand and floated towards the King, jabbing the air dangerously, like a dog on a leash.

Arthur backed away – away from Merlin, the sword – Morgana.

'Why?' he asked, only now becoming aware of a constant and angry pounding upon the door.

'Because you are my blood, and you would no sooner have me killed for the gift I possess,' she growled, allowing the blade to slice his arm shallowly.

* * *

From his vantage point, Merlin could see that Morgana had the upper hand. The door was locked by her magic, the Knights on the wrong side of the door, left Merlin helpless.

He was still trying to draw air into his oxygen starved lungs as quietly as he could, and his head throbbed with agony from where it connected the cold stone.

Of course he could forgive Arthur, but would the King be able to forgive him?

* * *

As the blade invaded his space once more, several things happened at once, the first of which included the door blowing inwards off its hinges, revealing very annoyed Knights. The rushed into the room, swords drawn as they noticed Morgana.

A scream of fury parted he lips and with a few muttered words, the blade flew towards the closest of his Knights, and his brother in law, Elyan.

Just when he thought he was about to lose a close friend, a second extraordinary thing happened.

Merlin scrambled to his feet, and thrust his hand out. He didn't need to hear what was said, the telltale flicker of gold was enough.

The enchanted sword clattered to the floor, and in exhaustion, Merlin followed.

Merlin the _Sorcerer_.

Morgana screamed and disappeared in a flurry of light, leaving the King and his Knights staring, bewildered at Merlin's unconscious form.

Without a word, Arthur moved forward and crouched by Merlin.

_Sorcerer._

The man's breath was shallow and laboured.

_It doesn't matter...Sorcerer._

Arthur noted the blood on the stones , probably from the wound he had dealt the boy in a moment of confusion.

_IT DOESN'T MATTER!_

Except that it did. It did very much – because it was his friend, and his friend had just saved Elyan's life, not moments after Arthur nearly took his.

So it did matter – and as Arthur lifted the limp form of his friend from the stone, he decided he would deal with it later.

* * *

**End**

**Whew, that was difficult! Dark Tower is not one of my **_**favourite **_**eps...It's a little too Gwencentric for my liking. Don't get me wrong, I like Gwen – but there is only so much one can take...**

**I hope that was suitable, and I hope not to leave it so long between posts next time!**

**The next prompt goes to Camoc - What if in the Dark tower, Merlin uses his magic to save Elyan's life, but**

**Gwen saw so she told Morgana later?**

**Reviews are love :) **


	15. Battle for Camelot

**A/N: **

This next one was supposed to be for Camoc, however this idea came to me and I decided to use it as a filler instead of having a 'Dark Tower' what if following another. I'm not sure if any of you have the same problems with 'The Coming of Arthur - part 2', but I felt as though there should have been more of a battle between Merlin & Morgause. I honestly didn't think Gaius would have enough magic to inflict the damage he did upon her. What could have been an epic battle turned out to be somewhat anti-climactic, so I have decided to re-write the scene. This, of course, means Merlin whump…but I'm pretty sure you guys love it, so I make no apologies.

***I don't own Merlin – but I do have a packet of chips…**

**CHARACTERS: **Merlin, Arthur, Lancelot, Knights, Gaius, Morgause and Morgana

**RATED: ** T

**GENRE: **Hurt/Comfort, Adventure & Angst

**WARNINGS: **Pretty sure this one could be the whumpiest of all so far...I'm not holding back, Merlin Fans, just letting you know now, Merlin gets the _crap _beaten out of him...Reveal!Fic

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**Battle for Camelot**

The blonde witch screeched as her eyes fell upon the spilt chalice. The scarlet liquid was harsh against the grey stone as it dripped languorously from the golden vessel.

Her dark eyes flashed in fury as they fell upon the wretched serving boy, who held his sword in a white-knuckled grip, breathing heavily.

His sharp cheekbones held a flush of pink from exertion and he eyed the woman warily as she circled him as a wolf would surround its prey.

'_You_,' she hissed vehemently as he squared his shoulders, intense cobalt meeting her predatory gaze. 'What have you _done_?'

Merlin adjusted his sweaty grip upon _Excalibur's _hilt and lifted his chin, determined not to cower before her.

'It's over, Morgause. You and your army have been defeated. Leave now or your life is forfeit,' his voice was firm and commanding, belying the panic that was bubbling in his chest.

The sorceress threw her head back and laughed. 'A _serving boy_, threatening me? You _are_ a brave little one - always so quick to jump to Arthur's defence…but you and your steel are no match for me!'

Her eyes flashed gold and with an imperceptible jerk of the head, Merlin was lifted off his feet. Grunting in pain, he slammed against unforgiving stone, an unseen force pinning him tightly to the wall. He struggled to draw breath as he felt a sharp pain in his chest, constricting his lungs.

Blearily he watched as his mentor approached the blonde from behind, his hand raised with a barely concealed tremor.

'_Oferswing!_' He bellowed loudly, his eyes flashing – but the spell did naught but make her stumble. Her magic never lost grip on Merlin.

'_Fool_,' she spat, knocking Gaius back with a lazy hand. 'As much of a fool as _you_, Merlin,'

She approached the struggling boy slowly, her eyes tracing every contour of his lithe body, like she was trying to read him, figure him out.

A murmured spell fell from her lips and invisible fingers wrapped around Merlin's throat, squeezing.

'You will die for your insolence, _servant_,' she growled, watching in cold amusement as the dark haired youth struggled to draw breath.

'Let him go,' Lancelot snarled, clutching his wounded side as he finally found the strength to get to his feet. He shuffled closer, watching the scene cautiously, silently screaming at Merlin to use his magic.

The Warlock gasped, his eyes drooping as he felt his strength flee. If he didn't do something soon, he wouldn't survive long enough to see his destiny through.

The grip tightened as Morgause turned her head. 'Come any closer Knight, and I will snap his neck,' she barked, grasping the boy's neckerchief.

Merlin shuddered – he could feel his magic roiling angrily beneath his flushed skin, desperate to lash out. It would not be to his advantage, revealing his secret to Morgause now – but the alternative was death, so with a deep breath, he roared.

His eyes flew open, gold flickering across cobalt irises, and Morgause relinquished her grip, stumbling backwards. Merlin slid limply to the floor, but regained his stance quickly, gripping the magical sword once more.

'Do not cross me, Morgause. I am more powerful than you ever could have imagined,' the young man said with quiet fury.

'NO!' The sorceress bellowed, jumping to her feet. 'IT IS NOT _POSSIBLE_!'

She let out a harsh scream, pouring her malice and power into the ancient words, and Merlin was airborne once more.

A distant crash resounded in his ears, and as he crashed to the floor, he realised in bewilderment that he had just been thrown through the heavy wooden doors of the throne room like it was nothing more than parchment.

Morgause was far more powerful than he anticipated, but grim thoughts would surely be his end, so with wince, he ignored the hot blood soaking his tunic and retaliated.

'_Ástríce!_' He incanted, thrusting his palm out as if to push her over…but she merely stumbled. Cursing colourfully, the Warlock clambered to his feet, but did not release his waning magic.

'I thought you were powerful,' Morgause laughed cruelly. 'You will not be a match for me, or my _sister_.' She noted the look of horror on his pale features as he turned.

Morgana, dark and powerful and mighty, stood at the other end of the corridor, her eyes flashing with fury. 'You could have _helped _me, Merlin! Instead you turn to murder…' she hissed.

Guilt settled upon his gut like a stone and he tried to push it away. He would not be goaded.

'I HAD NO CHOICE!' Merlin bellowed in reply, blasting his magic towards Morgana. Being the weaker of the two, the rush of power sent her flying several feet.

The young Warlock took this window of opportunity and pelted down the corridor, away from the vengeful women.

'COWARD!' Morgause screeched as Merlin rounded the corner, heading for the entrance hall and his escape. 'You will face me! _Ablinn ðu;__forlæte ðu nu!'_

Once more, Merlin felt himself sailing through the air, panic rising as his enchanted body travelled inexorably toward the reinforced oak door.

***~*M*~***

Supported between Gwaine and Percival, The Prince Regent limped towards the courtyard. The battle had halted abruptly, the enemy warriors suddenly combusting and disappearing without a trace. Not that he was complaining or anything.

As the trio approached the front steps of the castle, the leaden doors shattered outwards, and a familiar dark haired figure slammed heavily on his left side and all but _bounced_ bodily down the stone stairs.

Arthur's eyes widened, his cerulean gaze locked upon the young man, who, despite a rather rough landing, was still conscious and struggling to get to his feet. The Prince sucked in a breath of panic as he took note of his friend's condition. The side of his face was shrouded in red as blood flowed at an alarming rate from a gash on his forehead and his lips were slightly parted as he panted heavily, attempting to put some weight on his left leg. Arthur immediately saw his problem – through the thin material of his tunic, Merlin's left hip bone jutted predominantly from his body.

_Dislocated, _Arthur thought grimly as the youth gave up trying to stand on it and opted to drag it behind him as he shuffled from the blonde woman approaching from behind.

Arthur and the two Knights were still frozen and speechless at the sight of the gangly servant, covered in dust and blood, hobbling towards them, determination blazing in his features.

'Stop standing there looking like a prat! GET OUT OF HERE!' Merlin bellowed, the strength of his voice giving lie to that of his body.

_'__Atæse!'_ Morgause cried, standing before the shattered door, her palm outstretched toward Merlin. With a gasp, the youth's nimble fingers clasped at his neck, as terrible gashes appeared, stark against his pallor. Blood slipped through the trembling appendages, and the boy swayed precariously.

Recovering slightly from the shock of seeing Merlin in such a state, Arthur rushed forward, fear burning at his heart.

'ARTHUR PENDRAGON! YOU WILL **STOP**!' Morgause commanded, gaze never wavering, even as Morgana appeared at her side in a flurry of grey mist.

With a jerk, she unsheathed a dagger from her boot and began to strut down the blood-smeared steps, her dainty chin held high.

Arthur couldn't move. The knights couldn't move.

They could only stare in horror as more of Merlin's precious life force slipped through clutching fingers. How Merlin was still on his feet was beyond him.

A twist of Morgause's hand, and Arthur understood as Merlin crashed to his knees with a grunt. The sorceress was controlling him – preventing him from losing consciousness. Torturing him.

'Does His Majesty know of your little party trick?' Morgause asked sweetly, placing a boot upon his chest and kicking savagely.

The young man didn't cry out.

'ANSWER ME!' She screamed, lashing out again.

Merlin pressed his lips together and screwed his eyes shut. He could feel the burn inside, unrelenting agony caressing every nerve ending, threatening to pull him under. He was on the precipice of unconsciousness, but he was somehow unable to fall into the welcoming darkness that would ease his suffering.

A calloused hand gripped at his raven mop and pulled back so their gaze could meet.

Fire and vengeance and pure unadulterated rage flickered in the sorceress's brown eyes and Merlin shuddered, suitably terrified.

'Tell him. Who. You. _Are._' She ground out, her jaw clenched as she raised the dagger.

'Merlin, whatever it is-' Arthur began, but was cut off by the gaze of death itself. Truly afraid, the young Prince shivered as he watched the hovering blade dubiously.

'One last chance, little one,' she crowed, opting for the gentle approach.

Then Merlin did something that both surprised and pleased Arthur. He screwed his face up into an unrecognisable scowl and spat – a clot of bloodied spit sprayed upon her cheek and she flinched. 'Get _fucked_,' he hissed.

The woman was frozen for several seconds, but as the shock of his actions wore off, her face contorted in a rage so powerful that dark clouds gathered above in an instant, crackling with lightning.

She began to chant, her words imperceptible over the peals of thunder and the blade of her dagger sparked, threads of hot, blue light dancing across the polished metal.

'SO BE IT!'

With an animal cry, she plunged the enchanted blade down. It tore a ragged scream from Merlin's lips as lighting seared through his blood, arching his back as the weapon rent flesh and muscle.

'MERLIN!' Arthur cried, still unable to move and feeling physically ill.

Despite the pain, the blood loss and utter exhaustion, Merlin was still unable to succumb. His magic roiled and seethed, desperate to fly, and Merlin turned his head towards Arthur, his cobalt irises almost fully dominated by black.

'I will tell you who I am,' he began firmly, eyes apologetic as he turned away from the Regent. 'I am an idiot, a dolt. A bumbling, pathetic excuse for a manservant.' He pushed Morgause away, blade still embedded in his flesh as he stood. 'I am a packhorse, a target, a laughing stock.' His voice rose and Arthur shrank back. 'A physician, a herb gatherer, a water fetcher, an entertainer.' Merlin's hand curled around the sorceress's throat and squeezed. 'I AM A PROTECTER! A CONFEDANT! AN ADVISOR! A FRIEND! A _BROTHER_ TO THE ONCE AN FUTURE KING!'

Arthur's heart swelled at the last comment, pride and love for his friend dominating all emotion.

The youth's voice lowered. 'You. Will. Not. Take. That. Away...I will be forgiven, because one side of the same coin could never truly hate the other.'

'W-who are you?' Morgause whimpered, now over powered by fear.

'I. Am. Merlin,' he grasped the hilt jutting from his chest and dragged the blade free without twitching. 'I AM EMRYS!'

Blue light engulfed the pair – pure and beautiful.

Arthur was mesmerised and suitably afraid. Somewhere nearby, he heard his sister scream. Merlin had magic.

The shimmering radiance surrounded Merlin like a halo and despite the blood and dirt, Merlin was beautiful - sharp planes and delicate fingers – which had released Morgause.

He was like an angel.

That was the first time his father's spiteful words regarding the evils of magic were dismissed. Finally able to move, he approached the man, the radiating spell whispering across his skin like a gentle kiss. How could this be bad? How could beautiful, gentle, kind Merlin _ever _be evil?

Sensing Arthur's cautious approach, Merlin tensed and turned slowly, his breath catching at the look of fascination upon his master's face. There was no wrath etched into his handsome features – just curiosity, with a smattering of concern.

Slowly, the glow dissipated, drawn back into its owner, by no means diminishing the fierce magnificence of the man before him.

Eyes on each other, the pair barely noticed when Morgana gripped her sister tightly and disappeared into thin air. They weren't aware of the other knights rushing forward, carrying the wounded and covering the dead. Lancelot and Gaius stepping through the rubble, calling their names incessantly could not even pull them from this trance.

This contest went as such for several minutes – the two men, just staring, reading, figuring out – and as quickly as the spell bewitched them, it ceased and the pain was back.

Burning, roiling, bucking, _searing_ white hot agony burst into the young Warlock all at once, like a tidal wave.

Merlin gasped, and as his eyes rolled back behind fluttering lids, he pitched forward.

Arthur leapt forth without hesitation, catching the falling man under the armpits – the dead weight bringing him down beneath him.

'GAIUS!' he cried, his voice hitching in panic as Merlin's hot blood soaked him in a matter of seconds.

The old Physician hobbled over, his face lined with panic as he took in the image of his ward.

'Oh dear gods, _Merlin_...you stupid boy!' He admonished the unconscious Warlock.

'DO SOMETHING!' Arthur screamed, his voice breaking as emotion stuck in his throat.

Gaius turned to Gwaine and Percival. 'Get them both to my chambers _now._' He ordered, picking up the hem of his dragging robes and shuffling, with the help of Lancelot, towards his chambers.

Gwaine turned to lift his friend from atop the royal and froze. Arthur's fingers twined through Merlin's unruly mop, stroking and soothing while he pressed his forehead against the others.

He was crying.

'Don't die Merlin, please. I forgive you. I forgive you,' he murmured, squeezing his eyes shut.

The knight glanced at Percival, whose throat convulsed at the sight – the sorrow of the young man threatening to turn them both into quivering messes.

Shaking the emotion away for now, Gwaine crouched down and rested his palm atop Arthur's dishevelled blonde mane.

'Arthur, let me take him...I will be gentle, but he must go to Gaius now,' the Knight murmured quietly, stroking Arthur's hair as he did Merlin's.

Choking on a sob; Arthur nodded, his cerulean eye shrouded in pain and grief. 'Don't hurt him Gwaine,' he pleaded, sounding less like a Prince, and more like the youth he was first and foremost.

Gwaine flashed him a reassuring smile, and with as much tenderness as he could muster, scooped the unconscious man into his arms.

'C'mon mate,' he muttered to Merlin, as he rose to stand, waiting for Percival to follow suit. Arthur had been reduced to a shuddering mess, so out of the norm and decidedly _not_ Arthur, as when he was lifted by the bulky Knight, not a word of complaint left his quivering lips.

Gone was the man, for the moment replaced by a heartbroken boy, who could very well have his best friend torn from his life.

Taking long, smooth strides, their speed ate the distance between the courtyard and the Physician's chambers, and soon the Knights carried their burdens over the threshold.

As Gwaine lowered the boy gently to the bed, he noticed wide pain-filled orbs staring back at him, consciousness returning. It would not be pleasant for the youth.

Seeing that his friend was awake, Arthur extricated himself from Percival's grip with an annoyed huff. Arthur the Prince was returning slowly.

He limped over, settling upon a stool that Gwaine produced as he watched Gaius gather his needed supplies.

'Merlin...you _idiot_,' Arthur reprimanded gently, brushing a lock of dark hair from Merlin's blood-soaked brow.

'Art-ur,' he managed, his eyes glassy with concussion.

The Prince smiled reassuringly. 'Yes _Mer_lin, It's me – I am not here to execute or banish you...although I'm thinking about punching you in the face when you can manage it,' he replied lightly.

Merlin chuckled, but instantly regretted it as pain lanced through his body.

'Arghh..._shit_,' he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut.

Arthur bit back the emotion that was threatening to spill forth, and a few tears slipped by unchecked as Gaius handed him a damp cloth.

'Use it to clean the blood away please, Sire. I need to determine the severity of the wounds,' the old man explained upon noticing Arthur's dumb look.

With a nod, he tenderly wiped the gore from Merlin's brow, growing more concerned as the gash was revealed. Bone was just visible – a sliver of white amongst flesh, and Arthur was sick.

'_Dammit_,' Gaius swore, feeling overwhelmed at the severity of the youths injuries – he only had two hands and at least _a billion_ bleeding wounds to tend to.

Noticing the Physicians panic, Gwaine and Percival volunteered themselves, while Lancelot watched from the floor, his wound forgotten.

Gaius took a shuddering breath and handed each of them a cloth. 'Anything that is bleeding more than a trickle, clean. The disinfecting will come after the bleeding has been controlled.'

The pair nodded and set to work as Gaius continued to prod.

Arthur lifted his head from the pail that rested between his knees, remembering the jutting hipbone and wincing.

'Gaius – his left hip his dislocated. He was favouring it earlier.' He mumbled, receiving a grim smile of thanks from the old man.

'Thank you Arthur...I'm going to need your assistance with this,' Gaius replied, unlacing the boy's breeches and gently pulled them down past his thighs.

Merlin shivered. 'This is going to hurt, isn't it?' he asked softly.

'My word it is boy,' the Physician replied honestly, before turning to the Prince. 'I need to you hold his upper body while I jerk the bones back into their correct positions. He may injure himself further if he flails.'

Arthur nodded and stood behind Merlin, draping the weight of his upper body against Merlin's. His nose brushed Merlin's chin and he could feel the boy's hot breath panting in panic against his abdomen.

Gaius gripped the youth's hip and upper thigh tightly and without a warning, wrenched mightily.

The Prince nearly swallowed his heart at animal scream that was torn from his friend's lungs, and was almost relieved. He was unconscious – hopefully unaware of their ministrations. It was going to be a long night.

***~*M*~***

Hours passed.

Wounds were cleaned and stitched, poultices applied.

Merlin was lucky to be alive – as they worked, more problems that could affect his life cropped up. Fractured skull, ribs – heart arrhythmia.

Days passed.

Merlin was still unconscious, swathed in bandages and blankets. He had a fever. Sweat and blood and pus filled Arthur's days, but he would not leave his side. Camelot was having an extended public holiday. It was known as _'Prince-Arthur-is-really-pissed-off-and-worried-because-Merlin-wont-wake-up_'.

He wouldn't leave.

Two weeks.

Merlin did not open his eyes for two weeks. Arthur had tried being nice, joking, telling him to get his sodding, lazy arse out of bed and attend his master.

When that failed, he tried begging. Crying like a child; fear and worry coursing through his veins.

Then he grew annoyed. Angry and frustrated. He screamed and swore and threw things, and shook the poor youth – praying for a response, because he looked _too_ still. Too much like _death. _

Then he felt guilty for shaking his friend and embraced his limp form, refusing to revert back to the wet and blubbering mess of phase 1.

Camelot was in perpetual holiday.

* * *

When Arthur caught sight of those cobalt orbs, after being hidden for so long – he thought they were the most beautiful things he had seen in a while and _damn it_ if this whole, blasted situation wasn't turning him in to a huge, white, lacy girls petticoat.

'Merlin!' he cried happily, gripping the edge of the bed and leaning forward – afraid to hurt him.

The boy blinked, slowly. Lazily.

And promptly threw up.

'S-sorry,' he gasped, his voice hoarse and rough from disuse. Arthur just smiled and cleaned him up, handing him a glass of water.

He took it with a trembling hand and sipped slowly.

'You scared me.' Arthur said abruptly, and Merlin's eyes dropped. 'You almost died after that last trick of yours. I was _terrified._'

Merlin shook visibly. _He knew. He finally knew._

'I...I'm...' the youth stammered.

'Not capable of stringing together an intelligent sentence? Yes I am aware.' Arthur finished good naturedly.

Tears slipped unbidden from Merlin's eyes and Arthur sighed. 'You dolt,' he murmured gathering the boy in his arms.

'I almost lost you, _brother_.'

Sobs now, great gasping sobs. Arthur held him for an hour while he cried, before settling him back to the pillows.

'Prat,' Merlin murmured.

'_Idiot,'_

'Dollop head,'

'Twat,'

'Clotpole,'

'Merlin...'

'Shut up?'

Arthur patted his head.

'I'm glad you're alright – awake it least, if not alright yet.'

Merlin smiled, such a free and gentle smile; like the weight of the world had been lifted of his shoulders. The burden of his secret was gone, and now he could fulfil his Destiny without getting distracted by having to keep his secret from the Royal Arse.

'Merlin?'

'Hmm?'

'You do that to me again...'

'Stocks?'

'A month.'

**END**

* * *

**Wow...I think that was the longest! Once I started to think about it – the more it annoyed me and the more I had to get it down! I hope you guys enjoyed that as much as I enjoyed writing it. The next one is for Camoc. PROMISE! **

**R&R**


	16. A Lesson

**A/N: **

Yes – It's been ages, my apologies readers! No excuses from me, but on with the show!

I'm doing this 'What if' a little differently – instead of it being a AU of the Dark Tower, it will be the consequences of Merlin's reveal and therefore will take place as an Alternate of A Lesson in Vengeance, wherein Merlin is poisoned instead of Arthur. For Camoc – hope you enjoy!

As you are well aware, Merlin belongs to the BBC

**CHARACTERS: **Arthur, Merlin, Dark!Gwen, Morgana

**RATED: ** T

**GENRE: **Hurt/Comfort & Angst

_WHAT IF...S05Ep6 The Dark Tower/S05Ep7 A Lesson in Vengeance - Merlin used his magic to save Elyan's life. Gwen see's and tells Morgana later. _

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**Lessons**

'You're very fortunate, Merlin.' Gaius commented, tying a bandage around the cut that marred his upper arm. 'A fall like that could have broken your neck.'

The young man nodded slowly, watching Arthur as he paced the chambers, idly chewing a nail in agitation. It had all happened so fast that neither he, Merlin nor Guinevere had any idea as to what happened entirely, apart from, one was inclined to assume, an attempt on the King's life. It appeared, however, that Merlin got in the way – saving his life once more.

'Have the men who attacked us been questioned?' Arthur inquired, his legs finally ceasing their nervous stride.

The elderly physician gave Merlin a gentle pat on the shoulder and turned to the King. 'I'm sorry sire, their wounds were fatal. We were unable to learn anything from them.'

Testing the movement of his arm and hissing as it brought pain, Merlin stood. 'We know one thing.' He began, moving to clean up the various tinctures and herbs that scattered the bench – only to have his hand slapped away. 'It can't have been a coincidence they were there.'

Not noticing the look upon Gwen's face that could be compared to a scowl, Merlin towards the chamber door as Sir Leon burst through accompanied by a guard.

'Sire, we recovered Merlin's saddle from the forest trail,' the sandy haired Knight started, taking an object from the guard by him. 'The girth was unpicked and restitched. It was designed to break Sire.' He handed the piece to the King and turned to Merlin, who looked suitably shocked.

'You mean...someone did this on purpose with the intention of killing _me_?' The raven haired youth asked incredulously, finally catching the cerulean gaze of his friend.

'Don't be ridiculous _Mer_lin. Who would want to kill you?' Arthur asked derisively – but Merlin could see the fear and concern deep within the King's eyes.

'Was this saddle _ever _intended for the King's use Merlin?' Sir Leon asked, accepting the sabotaged girth from Arthur. Of course he had to ask the question – just in case there was any possibility at all that it was an assassination attempted.

Merlin swallowed thickly and shook his head. 'That saddle has always been mine...everybody knows it belongs to me.' He said quietly. And how could it not be? It was fading and ragged from much use. Not fit for royalty of course.

Arthur continued to stare at the youth. 'But why would someone want you _dead_?'

***~*M*~***

It was nearing noon as Guinevere picked her was carefully over the rocky path of the forest. She drew her blue cape closer around her slim form as she approached the meeting site. Morgana was already waiting for her as she rounded the corner of the trail and with a grim frown.

'Guinevere.' The sorceress greeted, noting the look upon the Queen's face.

'The plan failed – Merlin lives.' She relayed, biting her lip as a scowl crossed Morgana's features. The woman turned away, wringing her hands in annoyance.

'Does anyone suspect you?' She asked sharply as the pair began to walk side by side.

'I don't believe so, My Lady - although Arthur seems troubled by the fact his _servant_ is in danger. It's sickening really.' Gwen replied with a scowl.

Morgana smirked. 'Yes, well – it seems that they care deeply for each other and with that sneaky little sorcerer gone, Arthur will no longer be protected. The days following Merlin's death will give us the opportunity to strike.'

The Queen smiled coldly. 'I want him to suffer, Morgana – for what he has done to you. I want him to _hurt_ as much as I wish my husband would.' She spat venomously.

'Good – then I have just the thing that will ensure Merlin suffers terribly in his last hours. All will be prepared by this evening. I will come to you.'

With warmth in her green eyes, Morgana embraced her former maid – exceedingly pleased with the way her plan was turning out. 'Now go and make haste. We do not want you to fall under suspicion,'

Gwen nodded and with a smile, drew the hood of her cloak to cover her face and took off down the worn path to the Citadel. She could not wait to see what her lady had in store for the irksome magician.

* * *

Morgana approached the old hut with a cold smirk upon her features. Smoke spewed from the chimney filling the clearing with a woody scent. She walked briskly through the avenue of trees and when she reached the door, she did not hesitate to open it.

'Who are you?' demanded the sole occupant, feather quill in hand dripping ink onto his parchments.

'It matters not who I am,' Morgana replied, head held high. 'But what I want and whether you can give it to me.'

The man set his quill down and looked upon the young witch who was peering around with a mixture of mild disgust and morbid curiosity.

'And what is it that you want?' The man inquired.

Her jade eyes flicked over to meet his gaze. 'A tincture with the power to kill. And not just to kill, but to do so slowly and with the utmost pain.'

The man averted his gaze to the parchment he had been writing upon moments ago. 'Very particular, what you seek,' he mused, trying to resist the urge to stare upon this woman's beauty.

'It has a very particular purpose.' Morgana smiled as he finally met her eyes once more. 'Well? Do you possess such a thing?'

The man laughed coldly and rose from behind his desk. 'I do.'

The sorceress watched as he traversed the mazelike setup of his shelves and bent down low before her, fumbling. Upon finding his prize, he straightened his back and held out a tiny vial of clear fluid. 'Here.'

'What is it?' she asked with a frown, moving closer to the man.

His lips quirked into a smile. 'Henbane. It is best ingested, although it can be administered through the ear; prolonged and as unpleasant as could be wished for.'

Morgana reached out to take the vial, but the man pulled them out of reach. '_This _is an uncommon thing...hard to come by, hard to prepare. '

She glared at him scathingly handing him a leather pouch that clinked merrily in his palm as the vial passed to her.

'Pleasure doing business with you. ' She muttered dryly, turning on her heal. She had an appointment to keep.

* * *

The Queen entered the Physician's chambers with practiced ease, the vial of poison in her tightly clenched fist. The transaction had gone off without a hitch, and Morgana was surely leagues away in the guise of an old crone. Guinevere smiled darkly at the bowl of soup, steaming on the bench next to a tattered piece of parchment. She read the note quickly and felt her heart jump with glee. This was perfect! The dottering old fool was out assisting a birth and would be gone for hours, possibly the entire night.

The cork came free with little resistance, and without hesitation, she tipped the entire contents into the broth. She turned on her heal, and with swish of her skirts, she exited the chambers, happy in the fact that Merlin would be dead by morning...

***~*M*~***

The light was fading fast as Merlin entered his chambers, arm throbbing lightly. As he lit the candles around the dim room, his eyes fell upon the roughly hewn bowl sitting upon the oak table, spoon resting upon the rim. Gods above, he was starving. He allowed a soft smile to tug at his lips as he sat before it, stomach growling with anticipation. Merlin didn't eat straight away though; he had just noticed the letter by the dish, scrawled in untidy ink, Gaius's message. His grinned widened at the knowledge that Marion had gone into labour, giving the kingdom a new babe to nurture and teach.

Hearing his stomach grumble again, he discarded the spoon, brought the bowl to his lips and drank the broth down, indulging in the small action that his mentor would surely slap him for. Truthfully, he just didn't have time to enjoy it – he had had to attend to Arthur for the remainder of the night before he could sleep. Dragging his sleeve across his lips, he hurried from the room, leaving the candles lit for when he returned.

Merlin was halfway to the King's chambers when he was overcome by a wave of dizziness.

Still clutching Arthur's meal, he frowned – confused by the suddenness of the ailment – but continued on, not wanting to keep the King waiting. As he walked, the feeling of ill health increased and he could almost feel his blood racing through his veins as though he had sparred with Arthur for three days without rest. Reaching the double oak doors of Arthur's chambers, he rested his brow upon it momentarily before swallowing the bile that climbed his throat rapidly and entering.

'Ah, _Mer_lin – finally! I'm starving!' Arthur declared from behind his desk, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

'When are you not, sire?' Merlin replied quickly, setting the tray down before his trembling hands could drop it.

The blonde King glared at him scathingly and picked up a drumstick, biting into it with gusto.

The warlock responded with an exaggerated eyeroll, but instantly regretted it as it tipped his vision violently, sending his surroundings into a swirl of messy colours.

Ok, now things were getting a touch worrying.

Reaching out, he gripped the edge of the table to steady himself and doubled over as pain clenched at his belly.

Groaning, he wrapped a skinny arm around his middle and took a shuddering breath, in an attempt to banish the sudden onslaught.

'Merlin?' Arthur asked, looking up from his meal and noticing the pinched features of his manservant, who was clinging to the table like his life depended on it. 'What's going on?'

His voice held a note of concern (not that he would ever admit it, of course) and he stood, leaving his meal to approach the dark haired youth.

'I'm fine sire,' Merlin ground out slowly, spit and sweat dripping from his chin. 'Just a stomach ac- ARGH!'

A strangled cry rose from his lips, and the young man clawed at his belly with long fingers.

'Oh _god...'_ he whispered, releasing his death grip on the table and crashing to his knees. Tears slipped from his eyes as he dry heaved.

How did this happen? One minute he was fine, the next he felt as though he had been trampled by wild horses.

Feeling strong arms around his frame, he flinched and fell forward, turning at the last minute to roll on his back. Shivering, he met the panicked gaze of his King, who was now gripping his shoulder.

'What happened, Merlin? What the hell is wrong with you?'

Merlin shook his head slowly and Arthur frowned, reaching over to press two fingers against his throat.

_Too fast. __**Way **__too fast, _the King mused – concern growing as Merlin's lips shone with saliva. His blue eyes were dull and glassy, like he was looking, but not entirely seeing.

Arthur gripped the youth's face firmly, noting the flush upon his alabaster skin and the way his breath shuddered like he couldn't breathe.

'Merlin, come on you idiot! Answer me!'

Eyes flickering to meet those of his friend, he gave a mighty shudder and retched. Bile splattered the front of his tunic, but the King couldn't bring himself to give a damn as those pain filled orbs disappeared beneath fluttering lashes.

Scrambling to his feet with a clumsiness that would put his ill friend to shame, Arthur dashed towards his door, heart pounding painfully in his chest.

'SOMEONE GET GAIUS!' He bellowed down the corridor, in the hopes that someone would hear him – and then turned back, stomach dropping at the sight.

Limbs flailing, Merlin jerked spasmodically on the ground, his jaw muscles clenched and his neck as taught as a drawn bow string. As the youth convulsed, grey foam sputtered from his lips, filling the room with harsh gurgling. Arthur swallowed the dread in his throat and was by Merlin's side in a heartbeat, hands hovering above like he was afraid to touch.

'Merlin, come on you useless lazy bastard, SNAP OUT OF IT!' he cried, emotion beginning to get the best of him.

'What's going on sire?' Gaius asked frantically as he hobbled through the door, face red like he had been running. His face blanched upon seeing his writhing ward on the floor of the Kings Chambers and rush to the boy's side.

'He just...collapsed. One minute he was being his usual idiotic self and the next...' Arthur grew quiet, eyes filled with panic as he stepped back, granting the Physician access to his patient.

Gaius stopped him with a hand. 'No, Arthur – I need you to help,' he said softly.

Clenching his jaw, Arthur nodded. 'What do I do?'

'I need you to turn him on his side sire, it is required to ensure he doesn't choke on his vomit,' the Physician explained, whilst rummaging through his medicine basket.

Hands trembling, the King reached down to his convulsing friend, sliding an arm beneath him, while the other held Merlin's skull to prevent it from bashing on the floor. Arthur looked up at Gaius with a questioning gaze. He wanted to be certain he was doing this right.

Receiving a short nod from the old man, he gently manoeuvred the dark haired youth onto his side, brushing his sweat damped locks from his fiery brow.

'What now Gaius?' Arthur asked quietly, his wide cerulean eyes filled with fear as Merlin's breath gurgled from his slightly parted lips.

'I need to make him vomit, sire. It will tell us what poison Merlin has consumed. If you could just –'

'I will do it.' The King said firmly, feeling the need to _do_ something. 'Just tell me what I need to do.'

The Physician hesitated momentarily and stepped away. 'You must grip his jaw, my lord – holding his mouth open.'

Arthur knelt by his friend, and followed Gaius's instructions swiftly.

'Good, sire. Now, with two fingers only, you must agitate his gag reflex – watch his teeth, he may accidently bite you. '

The young King blanched at the idea of sticking his fingers into Merlin's mouth, but not for the reasons he expected.

_What if my hands are dirty...what if I make him sicker?_

Gaius noted the hesitation and offered to take over, but Arthur refused with a short shake of his blonde head.

Merlin meant a lot more to the King than he should, but he would be damned if sat by and watched the man who had become like a brother to him, die.

With a shuddering breath, Arthur pressed his fingers past parted lips, feeling hot saliva and grimacing as Merlin jolted.

'That the way, your highness – just a little further.' The old man encouraged.

Arthur could feel Merlin's oesophagus convulse around his fingers, and as he gave them a wiggle, stroking the back of his throat – Merlin convulsed and retched mightily.

Hot bile coated his hand and he fought to keep his meal in his stomach as he eased his fingers free. Merlin coughed twice and twisted, tears leaking from his eyes as he continued to purge.

Arthur absentmindedly wiped his slippery fingers on his breeches before pressing a hand to the small of Merlin's back.

'Come on Merlin – get it all out.'

As his ward spewed violently, Gaius collected a sample in a vial and examined it carefully, taking a cautious sniff before turning away and crinkling his nose at the acrid smell.

'Henbane,' the old man murmured, panic rising. 'Oh lords _Merlin_.'

'What? What is it Gaius?' Arthur demanded, tearing his eyes from his friend to look upon the old Physician with panic filled eyes.

'It isn't good, sire...Henbane is a rather nasty poison, and if we cannot purge it completely from his system...'

He trailed off, shifting his gaze from the King to the trembling boy on the floor.

Arthur swallowed the lump of dread in his throat and tried to ignore the burning of tears behind his eyes.

'How do we purge it?' he asked shakily.

Gaius sighed and reached for his medicine basket and rustled through its contents, producing several lumps of charcoal from its depths.

Arthur frowned and watched as he began to grind the black lumps into a fine powder using the stone bowl that he carried in the kit with him.

'As long as the poison is not too advanced, the charcoal should soak up the poison. We will know it is working when he begins to throw up again.' Gaius explained, pouring the soot into a cup.

Without being asked, Arthur held Merlin's mouth open and winced as it was poured into his mouth. The physician rubbed his pale throat, encouraging the boy to swallow in his now semi-conscious state.

Merlin coughed dryly and his cobalt gaze flickered to meet Arthur's.

'Hey there, idiot,' the King greeted softly, his hand weaving unconsciously through dark hair.

'Pr-t...' he wheezed in reply, a tiny smile flickering at the edge of his lips.

Arthur snorted and took the second cup of coal dust from Gaius's outstretched hand. 'Just a little more, I promise,' he said, lifting the youth slightly and pouring the second batch into Merlin's mouth. He grimaced in disgust as he swallowed and allowed Arthur to lower him back to the floor.

'Gaius, can we move him somewhere more comfortable?' the King asked, doing his best to cushion the young man.

He shook his head. 'If all goes to plan sire, the purging should begin soon. Once his fever breaks, only then can we move him.'

And wait they did.

As the night drew on, Arthur began to panic, watching ever shuddering breath of his manservant – drawing the cool cloth across his fiery brow.

'Arthur...' Merlin groaned suddenly, clutching weakly at his gut. 'I'm..sor-'

His apology was cut of abruptly as black bile spilled from his lips and in seconds, he was on his hands and knees, vomiting the poison from his system. It burnt and the retching brought agonizing pain to his abdomen, but he was beginning to feel better.

The King supported his friend, one hand splayed against Merlin's stomach while the other rubbed small circles against his lower back.

After fifteen minutes of constant vomiting, Merlin finally fell limp, panting heavily – but Gaius smiled and ruffled Arthur's hair in an affection that had not been shown in many years.

As Merlin fell into a deep sleep, Arthur sighed. 'Will he be alright?' he asked, gathering the limp boy in his arms and laying him gently upon the royal bed.

'I believe he is out of the woods, sire – but he will need to be watched over the next couple of hours.'

There was no question as to who would do the watching, and as Gaius exited his chambers, the King drew the scarlet coverlet over the manservant's slender frame.

As the full force of what that night almost brought, the King of Camelot cried.

* * *

**Well, I'm not entirely sure I'm happy with that – let me know what you think. I can always come back and tweak it. Next one shot goes to Kitkat! AU of Aithusa - what if when Merlin saved Aithusa he turned around to head back into the forest to find the knights and they were standing right there? What will Merlin do when Arthur demands the egg so he can destroy it?**


	17. Heart of a Dragonlord

**A/N: **

Just got back from a cruise feeling refreshed and ready to give you guys some more! This one is for kitkat!

Blah blah

**CHARACTERS: **Arthur, Merlin, Knights, Kilgarrah & Aithusa

**RATED: ** T

**GENRE: **Hurt/Comfort & Angst

_WHAT IF...S04Ep4 Aithusa - when Merlin saved Aithusa he turned around to head back into the forest to find the knights and they were standing right there? What will Merlin do when Arthur demands the egg so he can destroy it?_

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**Heart of a Dragonlord**

The moment he wrapped his long fingers gently around the smooth, warm egg and lifted it from the plinth on which it had rested for four hundred years, Merlin cursed his stupidity. Of course there would be stringent measures put in place to punish the thieves that had managed to bypass the first trap. Had Merlin paid attention, instead of racing on as soon as the poisonous dissipated, he would have already come to the conclusion that the Tomb of Ashkanar would be further protected. The tremors began gently, catching the youth's attention as he cupped the treasure at its rounded base and as he peered up to the cavernous ceiling, he was showered by dust and small stones, peppering his hair grey.

Clutching the egg close to his body, he cast a sideways glance at Borden's still form and ran. As he raced through the towering pillars, large chunks of stone crashed dangerously around him, but Merlin was determined to protect the egg with his life, so he urged his legs on, despite the burn of exertion in his calf muscles. The debris was growing in size as the structure crumbled, and the young man was finding it difficult to navigate the tomb as its walls fell inwards.

Suddenly, he stumbled and pain exploded at the back of his head, sending his vision white for several moments as he teetered on the brink of consciousness. Swallowing the nausea that rose from his gut, the young Dragonlord continued to run, head throbbing painfully as hot blood welled from the gash and tricked down the nape of his neck. Merlin's vision wavered again, but he continued – seeing the light of his freedom ahead.

_Just a few more steps, and you can rest._

The warlock promised himself, whilst trying to avoid losing the last meal he ate. He burst from the tomb at speed, the sound of its collapse ringing in his ears as he dodged shrubs and boulders in order to get well clear of the massive slabs of stone that were peeling away from the vault.

Merlin slowed down as he entered the forest, and sighed in relief upon seeing that his pack was untouched. Holding the egg up, he examined it critically; so enthralled by its silky surface and iridescent sheen of pale blue that he failed to notice the arrival of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.

'Ah, Merlin! Well done! You're not nearly as useless as you've led us to believe!' Arthur said, enthused, not yet aware of the blood from Merlin's wound as he clapped him on the shoulder. The youth stiffened, his eyes widening as Arthur reached out to take the egg from him.

Without thinking, Merlin snatched it from Arthur's reach and clutched it protectively to his chest, eyeing the King and Knights warily.

This had to be it – there was no way Merlin could explain his desperate need to save the last dragon without revealing himself.

'_Merlin_,' Arthur growled a warning, his hand hovering at his hip. 'Hand me the egg. _Now_.'

The rage in the King's tone made him shudder, but he met the angry blue of Arthur's eyes with his own intense gaze.

'No.' He replied firmly, his unwavering tone eliciting a small gasp of shock from the company of Knights. 'It is not yet born – how can we kill something that hasn't even had the chance to be good?'

Arthur frowned, gripping the hilt of his sword and unsheathing it.

'It is a creature of magic, which makes it inherently evil. You will hand it over, or be executed for treason.'

He lifted the blade slowly and pressed the tip against the hollow of Merlin's throat. Hurt flashed in the young boys eyes and he swallowed convulsively as the blade nicked his flesh.

'Forgive me, Sire,' Merlin said sadly, still holding the egg. This was it – a dangerous choice. He had never performed a spell of this magnitude in the past, but the King had left him no choice. He allowed the pulsating magic to bleed throughout his entire being and closed his eyes.

_' Bedyrne me! Astýre me þanonweard!' _Merlin chanted, feeling his irises burn gold behind his lids. The sound of rushing wind filled his ears as grey tendrils wrapped his already quaking form. The spell was bleeding his strength faster than he had anticipated, but he could feel himself being whipped into darkness – like a tunnel with a pinprick of light at the end.

He felt the sharp sting of Arthur's sword across his torso before he was sucked into the vortex.

***~*M*~***

It felt as though all the air had been sucked from his lungs by the time Merlin rematerialised in the moonlit field several miles from the Citadel. He fell to his knees with a gasp and the egg rolled gently across the grass as he retched mightily. Arthur knew. The knights knew and he was dead.

Spitting the bitterness from his mouth, he wiped at the tears that began to fall and reached a shaky hand to the pristine object. Grasping it tightly, he raised his cobalt orbs to the heaven and cried, calling the Great Dragon through gasping sobs. He didn't have much time before Arthur found him – he had to finish what he started when he helped Border retrieve the final part of the Treskillion.

_I am coming young Warlock...c_ame the soothing thoughts of the Dragon, his huge wings buffeting the trees as he landed heavily upon the meadow.

'You have done well...but you have been injured,' Kilgarrah growled softly, peering at the trembling boy with a large golden eye.

'A-Arthur knows...he finally knows,' Merlin whispered, tears glistening upon the sharp planes of his cheeks. 'He's going to kill me...'

The dragon nudged Merlin gently with his snout and snorted. 'One cannot truly hate the half which makes him whole,'

_Great, more riddles_.

'You must take the egg and flee – I do not wish you to be here to see it.' Merlin said sadly, nudging the egg toward the giant creature.

'I cannot...only a Dragonlord can call a baby dragon into the world. Only you can hatch it.'

Merlin lifted his gaze to meet Kilgarrah's.

'But I don't know what to do!' He cried. 'I am too weak...'

'You can do this, young Warlock. You must give the dragon a name.'

He hesitated for a moment, then closed his eyes, reaching into the part of himself where the heart of his father resided. Like a mist, the name floated into his mind – and his eyes flashed gold.

'_Aithusa...'_ he murmured in the ancient tongue, feeling its power caress the egg.

Merlin watched with curiosity as it rocked on its base, tiny cracks appearing upon the pristine surface. The shell disintegrated slowly, peeling away to reveal a tiny, white dragon – chirping and unfurling its wings after its lengthy confine.

'A white dragon...this bodes well for Albion,' The great dragon said. 'You have done well...'

Merlin allowed himself a small smile, but it fell from his lips almost instantly.

'You have to leave, I can feel Arthur approaching...and he is so angry.'

'I will not allow you to suffer at his mercy, Merlin. If you do not come with me, I shall stay and fight by your side.'

The raven haired youth shook his head. 'No. This is something I must do, alone. I command you to fly.'

Merlin could hear the frantic hoof beats approaching now, and he turned his back on the pair of dragons as they took flight.

'MERLIN!' The King bellowed, breaking through the tree line at a gallop, sword raised and face contorted with rage.

The warlock stood his ground, his eyes locked upon Arthur he neared, not allowing himself to fear the end. The King pounced as his steed passed, and threw himself bodily upon Merlin.

'I trusted you!' Arthur screamed, driving his fist into Merlin's face and relishing at the sight of the traitors blood. Hit after hit fell upon Merlin, but he took the pain – he didn't hit back or use his magic. A pair of calloused hands wrapped around his slender throat and squeezed, not wanting meet the pleading gaze he knew his ex-friend had set upon him.

'Why won't you fight?' Arthur cried, the anger fading to betrayal and loneliness.

'I-I'm hap-py to be your s-servant until the day I d-die...' Merlin choked, his vision dimming as he tried to gasp for air. A flicker of indecision passed across Arthurs face and his grip loosened.

'You lied to me,' the King said softly, his heart racing. He was not sure why he could feel his gut twist itself into knots of regret. Merlin had magic. Magic is _evil_.

'For your own protection,' Merlin responded quietly, tears falling freely.

'Is that all you lied about? Were you lying about being my friend?' Arthur asked.

'Yes.'

The King swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to ignore the fact that his heart was breaking. He reached out to grasp his sword, but stopped when a cold, thin hand grasped his wrist.

'Because you are my _brother_.'

Arthur didn't know what to do – blood was pounding in his ears, and the satisfaction of feeling Merlin's skin splitting beneath his fist faded, leaving him nauseas.

The man below him was broken, bleeding and dying.

That was when Arthur decided he couldn't lose his brother. Sorcerer or not Merlin was his friend.

With a deep breath the King reached for the battered youth, not missing the flinch of fear it drew from Merlin.

'I'm sorry...' Arthur admitted softly, snaking an arm around his back and lifting him slightly off the cold ground. Merlin's lids fluttered, threatening to close – that was when Arthur noticed the dark blood glistening upon the grass. 'Oh, Merlin, you _idiot_,' he berated gently, pulling him into a brotherly embrace as his breath hitched in pain. 'How little you must think of your King...'

'N-never, my lord.' Merlin responded roughly, his strength failing him. 'I lied to you – it is understandable.'

The Kind snorted. 'Stop it Merlin. Manners don't work for you.'

A smile tugged at the young man's lips as peered into the eyes of his brother. 'I'm surprised you even know the meaning of the term, sire...'

A wet chuckle, and Arthur realised he was crying. He wiped his tears hastily and looked at the limp form in his arms.

Alarm flooded his body as he watched the intense cobalt disappear only to be replaced by weakly fluttering lids.

'Merlin, stay awake – I need you alive!' Arthur growled in frustration, slapping the boys face.

It was no use. With a shuddering breath, the Warlock lost consciousness.

Grunting, Arthur shifted himself into a more comfortable position and settled the young man into his lap protectively. He had no idea how far away the Knights where, so to pass the time, he thought of Merlin. Selfless, brave, strong, incredibly _stupid_ Merlin – who had saved his life on more than one occasion – was now unconscious, breathing laboured.

His fingers carded gently through the raven locks as he waited. He was not going to prosecute his best friend – not anymore.

Merlin was hurt, possibly dying. Explanations would come later.

His Brother came first.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed that! Stay tuned, for the next prompt is for Claret Tho – in which Merlin is a female, and she and Arthur are just like a married couple. **


	18. Just Like Marriage

**A/N: **

This next one goes to Claret Tho, who has requested a Fem!Merlin AU. This is my first foray into the female Merlin verse, and I hope I do it justice! I have also decided to do a part two to 'Heart of a Dragonlord' as per requests. Don't know where I will slot it, but it's coming!

**I don't own …do I seriously need to keep doing this?**

**CHARACTERS: **Fem!Merlin & Arthur

**RATED: ** K

**GENRE: **Humour + Hurt/comfort

_Fem!Merlin verse – A blazing argument between Arthur & Merlin._

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**Just Like Marriage**

'_Mer_lin! Could you possibly make any more _noise_?' Arthur hissed as he paused in his tracks, turning to fix his clumsy maidservant with a scathing glare.

Merlin responded with a derisive snort, clambering to her feet quickly and dusting herself off. She pulled a twig tangled from within her raven locks and stared at it with mild disgust before flicking it away.

'It's hardly _my_ fault that you decided to stray from the trail, _sire_,' Merlin replied, her intense cobalt eyes flashing briefly with annoyance.

King Arthur lifted a blonde eyebrow and folded his arms across his broad chest as he watched the young woman gather the supplies she had dropped when she tripped. 'When will you learn that you are _not_ supposed to speak to your master in such a manner?' He inquired with a light tone.

The corners of Merlin's full lips curled into a cheeky smile as she adjusted the heavy pack upon her shoulders and tucked the King's crossbow under her arm.

'The day said master stops being a Royal Prat,' she replied with a shrug, eyes glinting mischievously.

Arthur huffed like a child at his infuriating maidservant – with her disarming smile and too big ears poking out from her dark tresses.

Merlin saw her friend's frustration and chuckled, her grin widening. She always loved to get a rise out of the King - It made the day interesting.

'Shut up, Merlin.' Arthur responded after a while, noting that the ridiculous grin had not wavered, and began once again to track his quarry through the trees.

'Is this even necessary, Arthur?' she asked after several minutes of attempting to remain silent.

The young King let a growl of frustration fly from his lips as he spun around to face the dark haired girl.

'Is _what_ even necessary, Merlin? And would it kill for you to be respectful for once?' He snapped. For some reason, Merlin was getting on his nerves more than usual today. Maybe it was the feeling in the pit of his stomach that something bad was about to happen, or maybe it was the way his heart clenched painfully every time she shot him one of her signature grins.

The young maidservant narrowed her eyes, realising that the King's tone had switched from being light and teasing to dark and serious.

'I will respect you when you earn it, clot pole,' she responded coldly, fixing him with a glare that would rival Morgana's.

Arthur's face was slowly growing redder in rising anger and frustration as his mouth formed words before his brain could stop him.

'Why do I even keep you around? You're lazy, incompetent, not to mention weak and cowardly! Maybe I should sell you to the next stuffy lord who comes through Camelot!'

_Oh shit…did I just say that?_

Merlin flinched visibly, hurt flashing in her eyes momentarily as his words stung her heart.

Arthur opened his mouth to apologise, eyes softening – but Merlin's anger cut through as she responded.

'You know, _sire_ maybe you should. Lord knows I would probably get treated better and I wouldn't have to spend every waking hour waiting on your royal arse! If I had to spend _one more day_ with you being such a supercilious, pig-headed, arrogant _brat_ of a King, I may be inclined to fall upon your sword!'

Cheekbones flushing with fury, Merlin ripped the pack from her shoulders and threw it to the forest floor along with the royal crossbow.

Seeing his possessions handled in such a way sent the King into a temper once more and he stalked over to his young maidservant.

' Pick them up.' He growled, clenching his fists at his side.

Merlin met his gaze intensely and folded her arms across her chest stubbornly.

'No.' she replied shortly.

'_Mer_lin…' his warning tone didn't even make her blink as he stepped forward.

With all his might, the King shoved his maidservant like he was a child not getting his own way. She stumbled back clumsily and looked up at Arthur in shock.

Did he _seriously_ just do that?

She shoved him back with as much strength as she could muster, watching with satisfaction as he landed on his rear in the dirt.

'This is treason,' Arthur hissed, scrambling to his feet, his flaxen mop ruffled.

'Then execute me _sire_,' she replied coldly.

The next push came from Arthur, and although Merlin had been expecting it, neither of them noticed the steep incline that descended into a rocky gully through the trees.

The raven – haired woman windmilled her arms to keep balanced as she stumbled back, but the heel of her tattered boot caught the edge.

Eyes wide, Arthur tried to grab her by the jacket to keep her from falling, but the damage was done.

'MERLIN!' The king cried frantically as she disappeared over the ledge.

Guilt bubbled within Arthur's gut as he rushed forward and his panic rose upon seeing her prone form come to a stop at the bottom.

Without a thought for his own safety, he raced down the incline, sending rocks and boulders flying as he half ran, half slid to her side.

Her lids were shut tightly and small, shaky breaths escaped from her parted lips but Arthur's eyes were glued upon the nasty gash at her brow. Dark red dropped languidly over her eyelid and slid down the steep plane of her cheek like a tear.

Arthur brushed the lock of dark hair from her face and moved his hand to the nape of her neck, lifting her slightly.

'Merlin?' He whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

This was all his fault – if only he wasn't such a prat, this never would have happened.

He gave her a little shake, and pulled her closer to his chest, tears carving tracks down his dirty cheeks.

'I'm sorry Merlin...please wake up…' he pleaded softly, squeezing his eyes shut.

As he rocked the prone form of his best friend backwards and forwards, he failed to notice the young woman stirring.

'And y-you call _me_ a girls petticoat?' she croaked upon awakening to find her King sobbing above her. Arthur jumped, and his eyes flew open, the cerulean orbs intensified by emotion.

'M-Merlin…' he breathed, raising a shaky hand to cup her face gently. 'I...gods, I could have killed you…'

The young woman blinked slowly, trying to shake away the cobwebs, but her vision tipped violently and the brightness of the sun cleaved through her skull like an axe.

She took a shuddering breath and tried to ignore the nausea in her belly that threatened to resurrect her last meal.

'A-Arthur…you _pushed _me.' It wasn't a question, nor was it an accusation. Nonetheless, the young King hung his head in shame, tears glistening as the dropped from his chin and into the dirt.

'I did…and that makes me the biggest clotpole in the whole of Camelot,' he whispered sincerely, pulling her closer.

Merlin snorted. 'Try the whole of _Albion_, prat,' she replied before pulling away suddenly to heave into the grass.

Panting heavily, she spat and wiped her mouth, desperate to rid herself of the foul taste.

'I'm so _sorry_,' Arthur whispered, leaning forward to catch Merlin as she fell back. 'Let me have a look.'

Obliging her friend and master, she opened her eyes past the slits that only just made the light bearable and hissed at the pain it caused.

Unevenly dilated pupils shrouded the cobalt of her irises, diminishing them to a thin sliver of colour. They were glazed in pain and she seemed to have trouble focusing.

'How many fingers am I holding up?' He asked, slipping the digits into her line of vision.

'Three,' she replied. 'It only looks like six.'

Arthur swallowed convulsively – double vision was definitely a bad sign.

He looked up at the sky and guessed that they had about three hours of daylight left.

'I need to get you to Gaius. Can you stand?' The King inquired, climbing to his feet and brushing the dirt from his breeches.

'Probably not, but I'm going to try anyway,' Merlin responded stubbornly as she sat fully. The world tilted again, and the young woman groaned, holding a hand to her head.

Arthur rolled his eyes and pulled her swiftly to her feet. The sudden rise in altitude cause Merlin to heave once more and the King instantly regretted the move.

'Oh gods, I'm sorry…' Arthur muttered, grasping her arms as she stumbled back.

'S'ok,' she slurred softly in reply. 'S'like I'm drunk…'

She giggled and flashed the King a weak smile, before her eyes rolled back and her knees buckled.

Arthur swore and stopped her descent, lifting her easily into his arms. She was lighter than she probably should have been and he made a mental note to make sure she was fed better in the future.

'What am I going to do with you, idiot?' He asked the unconscious young woman in his arms. Knowing there would be no answer, Arthur set off at a jog towards Camelot.

***~*M*~***

The King arrived panting at the heavy oak door of the Physician's Chambers just a little after dark. Sweat stuck his hair to his brow and his legs were shaking from exhaustion.

'Gaius!' He called frantically, shifting Merlin in his arms, concerned that she had yet to awaken.

The door swung inwards, revealing the flustered Physician, about to demand what the fuss was about, when he saw the prone form of his beloved ward in the Kings arms.

'What happened Sire?' The old man demanded, standing aside to allow the King to pass.

'It was an accident…we were having an argument. I didn't see the edge of the ravine…'

Arthur looked away from the glare that Gaius fixed upon him. 'I pushed her.' He finished quietly.

Gaius pursed his lips, but suddenly softened upon seeing the tears in Arthur's eyes.

'Lay her on the bed gently. I need to determine the extent of the damage.'

Arthur did as he was bade, and moved a stool to sit by her side.

Upon collecting the needed supplies, he handed the King a damp cloth and instructed him to wipe the blood from the wound.

The King was as gentle as possible, but the touch elicited a pained groan from the servant and her eyes flickered open.

'Arthur?' she asked softly, frowning.

'I'm here, it's ok…' he assured.

'You pushed me…'

Arthur frowned as she flinched away, fixing the King with a glare.

'I-'

'I can't believe you pushed me! Just because you didn't get your own way!' she cried, waving Gaius away as he made an attempt to calm her down.

'You were being disrespectful!' The King defended, ignoring the cold look from the Physician.

'You were being a dollop head!' Merlin replied, folding her arms across her chest and huffing.

'You tripped!'

'I hate hunting! Of course I tripped!'

Gaius sighted and edged his way toward the door. He needed to let them sort this out – there was no way he was going to get involved with a pissed off Merlin.

As the old man slipped into the hall, he heard Merlin's voice, thick with tears and Arthur's soothing tone, attempting to calm the young woman down.

The Physician chuckled lightly and shut the door.

'Just like Marriage,' He muttered, hobbling away.

* * *

**There. Fem! Merlin. I hope I did alright!**

**The next goes to MerlinandArthurForever - A Servant of Two Masters. Arthur finds Merlin in the woods after they get separated and he is still injured**


	19. Our Servants Keeper

**A/N: **

I know, I'm churning them out! I felt bad for leaving you guys hanging for so long. This one is for MerlinandArthurForever! Enjoy – and I do love feed back!

I had the best weekend! Bradley, Eoin, Tom & Rupert were in Australia at our Pop culture expo, Supanova – I dressed as Fem!Merlin and actually got to meet and get a photo with Mr. James (he is such a sweetheart by the way!) Best part was the compliment on my costume

Don't own BBC's Merlin, but I now own a photo of myself & Bradley...It's something! (pic is now my avatar!)

**CHARACTERS: **Arthur & Merlin

**RATED: ** T

**GENRE: **Hurt/Comfort & Angst (again)

_WHAT IF...S04Ep6 A Servant of Two Masters - Arthur finds Merlin in the woods after they get separated and he is still injured_

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**Our Servants Keeper.**

Pale moonlight filtered through the forest canopy, lighting a path in the gloom for the King and his injured servant, hobbling across leaf littered ground.

'A nights rest and you'll be polishing my armour.' Arthur began lightly, shifting the youth in his grip. 'It could definitely do with a scrub.'

Merlin groaned as the sudden movement pulled at the wound on his shoulder, but he bit his lip, determined not to vocalise his discomfort further as the young King settled him against a bower and crouched by his side. The raven haired youth tilted his head back and swallowed roughly, his eyes scrunched against the pain.

With deft fingers, Arthur gently peeled Merlin's tunic from the wound, blood sticking to the rough fabric. Trying to keep his features from slipping into the horrified alarm that he felt in his gut, the King examined the lesion closely. Black and purple bruising swept across his upper left torso, and the flesh was torn severely. He could see the white of Merlin's collarbone, splintered and sharp from where the mace impacted solidly. Swallowing the lump of dread in his throat, Arthur readjusted the cloth over the injury and sat back on his heels.

'I've seen worse,' he lied, scrubbing a hand across his face. 'I've definitely seen worse.'

Merlin met his gaze and gave him chuckled darkly. 'On a dead man.'

The King swallowed again, fighting every instinct to gather Merlin up right now and race back to Camelot with the selfless idiot flung over his shoulder, but the mercenaries where still out there, and the servant was in no shape to travel.

'You're not going to die, Merlin. Don't be such a coward.' He said dryly.

The warlock tilted his head, the corner of his lips curling upwards in an attempt at smiling like his shoulder didn't hurt like hell.

'If I _do_ die, will you call me a hero?' He asked.

_Of course I would you stupid, bumbling fool! _ 'Probably,'

Merlin's eyes narrowed. 'But whilst I'm still alive, I'm a coward.'

_Never! _ 'That's the way these things work, I'm afraid.' Arthur said with a shrug. 'You get the glory when you're not around to appreciate it.'

Even though the man was badly injured, Arthur could still see the cheeky glint in his cobalt eyes.

'Well, unless you're the King,' Merlin pointed out, his grin fading to a wince as he pressed his hand against the wound.

'Come on, it's got to have some advantages!'

Merlin met the Kings gaze, his face pale and drawn. 'You have a very good servant.'

There was silence for a moment, then;

'Yeah, you're right. I do. A servant who is extremely brave and incredibly loyal and, to be honest, not at all cowardly.' Arthur said, feeling his heart clench as he spoke, fearing that Merlin was right.

Merlin shifted and his eyes seemed to shimmer for a moment, like he was on the verge of crying.

'Thank you, for saving my life.' He said with a weak smile.

The King's jaw clenched. 'You'd do the same for me.'

The next morning dawned bright and Arthur was still awake. His lids were heavy and he was beyond tired, but he couldn't risk sleeping – not with Merlin in the condition he was in. A twig snapped nearby and heavy footsteps approached, bring with them the sound of angry voices. He turned to Merlin, his heart thumping as he saw the man staring at the sky, struggling to draw breath. His condition had worsened significantly overnight, and Arthur was scared.

He stood quickly and sheathed his sword. 'I'd love to say we could stay here and rest, but in another ten minutes, we'll be mercenary mincemeat,' Arthur explained, bending low to grab Merlin's wrist and haul him over his shoulder.

'Leave me,' Merlin groaned, the movement sending waves of pain across his chest.

Examining the area, Arthur tried to get his bearings. 'Now's not the time for jokes,' he responded, finally recognising the area and the route they would have to take.

'Please leave me,' the youth muttered into his back.

'Sure, whatever you say,'

The King took off down through the woods, stepping carefully over protruding roots and passing around large boulders. The ruins of an old temple surrounded them, and very soon, much to Arthur's panic, so did the mercenaries.

Moving with as much speed as he could, Arthur set the youth down upon the ground, trying to block out the sound of his pained cry and drew his sword – racing towards the men who approached with violence in their eyes.

The young warlock watched on, desperate to do something – because Arthur was kicking their arses, but more and more replaced those that the King felled. Gritting his teeth against the overwhelming pain that threatened to pull him away, he focused on the small vein of power that was pulsating beneath his skin and pulled the strand.

'_Gewicad ge stanas,'_ he murmured, feeling his magic burst from with, leaving him drained as he watched the giant boulders crash down upon their enemies and blocking their path to Arthur.

'MERLIN!' Arthur screamed in panic, shocking the young man. He had never seen the King react like this before.

He so desperately wanted to give in to the darkness that was swarming his vision, but his anger smouldered as he watched a sneering mercenary lean down to grab him.

The warlock reached for that power once again, and without words – he blew the men backwards into the trees. Those who weren't knocked unconscious or killed on impact, jumped to their feet, their determination renewed. Grunting in pain, Merlin dragged himself up, trying to ignore the searing blaze of agony that tore through his shoulder. He had to get away and fast, because he wasn't particularly keen on being the plaything for some mercenary. Roaring, he sent another wave of magic towards the oncoming men, fearing the immense energy drain that came with it.

_No! _ He couldn't give up now!

Taking a shuddering breath, he dashed away from his enemies – not daring to look back as they began to yell. Sweat beaded his brow as he ran, matting his raven locks. Green rushed by, and he realised he was running faster than he ever had before.

The forest was quiet around him, and so far he had managed not to tri-

As that triumphant thought crossed his mind, his foot caught a stone and went sprawling to the dirt, the impact jarring his already painful wound.

Black crowded his vision and the world tilted violently as he screamed.

Panting heavily, he lay on the forest floor, vaguely aware of two things.

One; surely by now there would be dirt in his wound and two; if he stayed where he was, out in the open – he would surely be captured.

Turning his head, he peered into the wild forest that surrounded the trail, and with a grunt, began to drag himself slowly across the ground.

It took time, energy and _oh gods!_ The pain was sickening, frustrating – and as he settled into the dark brush, he cried, praying for Arthur to find him.

Merlin was fading, and fast. He just knew that the wound was dirty. He could feel his brow beginning to burn and nausea roiled in his belly. Rolling over weakly, he retched and the pain heightened.

When the darkness finally came, he welcomed it.

***~*M*~***

Night descended quickly as Arthur raced through the forest, sweat beading his brow as he searched frantically for his friend.

His legs burned with exertion but he urged himself on, the image of Merlin, weak and pained, disappearing behind the wrong side of the rock fall, painted in his mind.

There had been so many mercenaries , that the King had almost given up all faith of ever seeing the young man alive again, until he backtracked his way to the area he last saw Merlin, and finding it strewn with the bodies of those who ambushed them.

He was confused, to say the least, but when Merlin was not among the dead, hope returned to his heart. Eventually, Arthur had come across a set of uneven tracks that led into the trees, and from the pattern of the footprints, he was almost certain they were left by his bumbling manservant.

Stopping for a quick breath and a sip from his water skin, Arthur peered ahead in the gloom, narrowing his eyes when he saw the disturbed patch of dirt before him. It looked like someone had landed heavily on their front and dragged themselves over to…

His eyes widened as they came to rest on a scrap of red material, poking out from the bushes. 'Merlin…' he murmured softly, dropping to all fours and crawling forward. Arthur reached into the greenery and his shaking hand came into contact with an arm that was far too hot to be healthy.

'Shit,' he muttered, clambering to his feet and stepping into the shadows. Sure enough, in the dying light, Merlin laid – eyes closed lightly and cheeks flushed pink with fever.

_Please don't die…_ the King prayed silently, pressing two fingers to his throat. A pulse fluttered weakly beneath the digits and he breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled back Merlin's tunic to check the wound.

Arthur swallowed the lump of dread that stuck in his throat as he examined the injury, which was now covered with dirt, oozing blood and pus.

Still trembling with panic, Arthur unstoppered his water skin and dribbled the cool liquid onto the wound, rinsing the soil and muck away.

'Merlin, if you wanted some time off, you should have said something...' the King muttered as he untied the youth's neck scarf and held it gingerly to the lesion, eliciting a pained hiss from his friend.

Merlin's lids fluttered rapidly, fighting the urge to sleep forever and after a moment, Arthur was greeted by his cobalt gaze, intensity diminished by the haze of pain.

'Ar-tur...' the young man groaned, his breath hitching as his shoulder throbbed.

'There you are, you daft idiot...I was beginning to wonder whether or not I should fire you,' the King responded softly as he pressed his palm to Merlin's brow.

The youth's lips twitched upwards into a semblance of a smile.

'You c-came looking f-for me,' he wheezed, scrunching his face up against the fire in his chest.

Arthur wanted to roll his eyes, to call him an idiot and lock him in the stocks for a month for being such a martyr, but seeing his face contorted into a look of such immense agony, his usual stoic exterior crumbled away.

'Damn it Merlin! Of course I did! You don't think I would just leave you to those bastards, do you?' he asked, almost daring the boy to admit his doubts.

'You s-should have left me...' came the weak reply.

Arthur dutifully ignored those words as he continued to clean. When he pressed down too hard accidentally, drawing a strangled cry from the youth, he looked up and met Merlin's gaze.

'I would never leave you like that,'

'What is the life of a servant compared to that of a King?'

He shook his flaxen mop. 'Don't ever say that...when it comes to you, or any of my friends for that matter – I would do anything.' He looked away suddenly, afraid that the moonlight would catch the tears in his eyes. 'Do you think you could travel?'

Merlin chuckled. 'Does it look like I can?' he asked between laboured breaths.

'Does it look like you have a choice?'

Climbing to his feet, Arthur dusted himself off and secured the water skin at his hip. 'I have to get you to Gaius...1...2...'

On the third count, Arthur wrapped a hand tightly around his wrist and heaved, flinging the young man over his shoulder with as much gentleness as he could manage.

A harsh cry flew from Merlin's lips and Arthur winced. This trip was going to be painful for him.

* * *

Upon their return to Camelot, the first to greet the pair was Gwaine.

'How is he, Arthur?' he demanded as he ran down the stone stairs, Gaius and the remaining Knights in tow.

The young King could feel the heat radiating from his pale skin. 'Not good, I'm afraid. He has a high fever,' he responded shakily, catching Gaius's eye.

'I will prepare my chambers,' the old man offered, clamping a hand on Arthur's free shoulder. 'Thank you sire, for going back for him.'

The old man hobbled back into the castle, while Arthur readjusted the semi-conscious man upon his shoulder.

Arthur, carrying Merlin, were followed by the knights all the way to the Physician's chambers – there were groans of treason and plots to murder coming from them when Arthur instructed them to stay at the door.

Seeing that the patient cot was clear, Arthur settled the young man against the pillows and unsheathed his knife to cut Merlin's shire away from the wound.

'How did this injury occur?' Gaius asked, disturbed by the extent of the injury.

'A – a mace...' Merlin grumbled, awareness returning along with the pain.

Arthur turned to the old man.

'Will you be able to fix it?' He asked, eyeing the wound dubiously.

The Physician tutted and examined the damage more closely with his magnifying glass.

'It is a very grievous wound, make no mistake. You must have faith in me as a Physician – and faith in Merlin, because he is a fighter.

Arthur ruffled the youth's raven hair gently.

'Did you hear that Merlin? You have to fight it.'

There was no response from the manservant, but Arthur had a very strong feeling that the young man _would_ fight anything to protect his friends.

The knowledge of this made him smile and squeeze Merlin's hand, watching the lids drop further and further.

'Recover well my friend – will never leave you behind,' Arthur murmured as the secret Warlock once again, slipped into unconsciousness.

'Because I would have to train a decent servant to replace you.'

* * *

**Hope you guys are still enjoying! The next goes to TeganL74, who has requested Merlin get struck by lightning, which affects his magic, heart and brain. Wait until you've seen what I've done with it!**


	20. Eye of the Storm

**A/N: **

Sorry again guys! This is for TeganL74 – I hope you enjoy and this lives up to your expectations!

**I don't own Merlin – but if I did, Merlin and Arthur would probably get injured a lot more. **

**POST REVEAL! FIC**

**CHARACTERS: **Court Warlock!Merlin, Arthur and a little Gwaine

**RATED: ** T

**GENRE: **Hurt/Comfort & Angst

_Merlin is struck by lightning during a magical storm conjured by an enemy sorcerer. The shock not only affects his heart and brain – but his magic as well._

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**Eye of the Storm**

'Merlin, you _idiot_! You can't go out there alone!' Arthur cried, racing down the stone corridor in his night clothes. The slap of his bare feet echoed around the empty halls as he tried to catch up with the wayward Warlock; whose stupidity never ceased to amaze the young King.

'I'll be fine, your prattiness!' Merlin responded loudly, poking his head from around a pillar. He grinned stupidly upon seeing his friend jump and clutch at his chest in momentary panic.

Arthur growled at the youth, quietly reminding himself that Merlin was now more or less his equal and that the cheeky young man had enough favour with the Queen that Arthur would be made to sleep in the stables if he tried to put him in the stocks.

Outside the window, a bright flash of purple light was followed by mighty clap of thunder – and to the King and his Warlock, it sounded like the world being torn apart.

'Listen _Mer_lin…that sorcerer out there is really powerful…and probably a little miffed that he can't get past the shield you erected to protect the citadel.' The King paused and tilted his head to examine his friend closely. The young man looked well beyond exhausted – dark bruises beneath his cobalt eyes stood stark against the pallor of his skin and sweat beaded at his brow. He ruffled the boy's raven mop. 'Speaking of which – how are you holding up?'

Merlin sighed, remembering the oath that was made to Arthur the day he pledged his power and allegiance to the King. No more lies. No matter how small or insignificant he thought them to be, he would never keep anything from his friend.

'I haven't slept in several days – the effectiveness of the shield diminishes when I do so and I don't know if it would be enough for him to break through. It seems I have been doing nothing other than sealing the cracks and fortifying the weak spots.' Merlin cast his eyes out the window, brow furrowed as he watched the violent, enchanted tempest wreak havoc on the forests outside of the shielded area. He turned back to Arthur after a few moments, his eyes dim with weariness. 'I can't keep this up for much longer Arthur. I have to do something before I collapse and I can't keep raiding Gaius's stores for things to keep me awake. I _need_ to sleep.'

Arthur continued to study the youth and upon seeing no deception upon his elven features, drew his lips into a thin line.

'What can you do about it?' He asked walking alongside his Court Warlock as they continued towards the North Tower, where the fortifications were weakest at this point. 'There's got to be a spell or enchantment that has a restorative effect – to help you until this whole mess has blown over!'

Merlin glanced at him momentarily and gave him a small smile that lacked its usual impudence. 'Believe me, Arthur – I've been looking. There isn't much to do when the entire castle is asleep – so I have spent my nights in the vaults, pouring over as many magic books as I can get my fingers on. There is nothing I haven't already tried, and anything else would be stupid and irresponsible on my part.'

The blonde King nodded gravely, giving the young man a pat on the shoulder. Arthur wasn't very touchy-feely at the best of times, but Merlin was pleased at the attempt.

Together, they began to climb the spiralling stairs around the inside of the tower, needing to stop several times to prevent the Warlock from collapsing.

Merlin's head was pounding mercilessly and his eyes burnt from lack of sleep. Nausea roiled in his belly as he stopped again, arm wrapped tightly around his abdomen and fiery brow resting upon the cool stone. The young warlock felt a calloused hand grip his elbow as he stood, shaking against the wall.

'Sit down for a minute before you fall. You're still a clumsy idiot and I don't want to have to run back down those stairs to rescue you because you fainted like a _girl_,' Arthur chided good naturedly.

Merlin did as the King bade and sat upon the step, his friend hovering above like a mother hen.

'Don't forget, _sire_ – I have the capability to turn you into a toad; and don't think I won't, if you continue being facetious.' The raven haired youth grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

'Oh Merlin, that's a big word,' Arthur commented with a chuckle.

'Oh _Arthur_, that's a big _head_,' Merlin responded rising to his feet and swaying precariously as a wave of dizziness washed over him.

The King gripped him tightly, concern furrowed upon his brow as Merlin allowed his eyes to close for a few seconds.

'Merlin?' he ventured. 'You sure you can do this? Defeat him _right now_?'

The warlock blinked and caught his gaze with dead eyes. 'What choice do I have? I need to sleep, which I can't do with the shield up and I cannot release it until the Sorcerer is dead,' he snapped, but instantly regretted his tone. Arthur ignored it, knowing what he could be like on no sleep. Seeing Merlin begin to apologise, Arthur held up a hand to silence him.

'I understand – there is no need. Come on you idiot, we have a sorcerer to kill.'

The raven haired youth rolled his eyes and allowed his friend to steady him as they continued up the steps.

'So, what's the plan?' Arthur inquired after several more minutes of steady climbing.  
Merlin shrugged. 'I haven't really thought of one. I was just going to wing it and hope I don't die.' He admitted.

Arthur scrubbed a hand over his face and heaved a sigh of frustration.

'Really Merlin? You didn't think of any handy spells beforehand? You weren't considering summoning Kilgarrah to roast him?'

The Warlock grinned sheepishly. 'Yeah, I –er...didn't think of tha-'

The smile dropped suddenly and his cobalt irises disappeared, revealing bloodshot white as his lids fluttered. Knees buckling, he began to fall backwards, but Arthur gripped him beneath the arms and took the boys weight (which wasn't much) against his chest.

Swallowing past the lump that formed in his throat, the young King jiggled the boy in the hopes of eliciting some kind of response. 'Merlin, Come on – this is no time for a nap. Let's have you lazy daisy,' he murmured and smiled a little at the fond memory of Merlin's serving days.

'Arthur...' the Warlock breathed, opening his eyes with great difficulty. 'He's breaking through – I can't hold the shield much longer.'

The King pursed his lips and slowly stood Merlin upright. 'Then we need to go, _now._ It's alright, we're not far from the top,' Arthur assured, his arm around Merlin's narrow waist to keep him upright. With a brief nod, Merlin accepted the assistance, and they were moving once more.

True to his word, the oak door at the top of the tower loomed into view, and without hesitation the two men pushed through it and onto the battlement.

A ferocious wind tore at the Warlocks raven mop, whipping it mercilessly against his face – the cracks were getting bigger and the storm was seeping in.

The air was thick and alive with the crackling of dark magic and Merlin could feel it trying to crush his own. The pain nearly took his breath away, but he had a duty to his King and his people. He pushed Arthur away and climbed upon the parapet, arms open. 'Show yourself!' He cried into the darkness. 'COWARD!'

A dark chuckle invaded his senses and he felt his insides turn to ice. 'You think you are any match for me, little Warlock?' The simpering voice asked, as its owner swirled into existence with a flurry of grey mist. The shield had failed.

Clenching his fists, Merlin stepped down from the high wall, eyeing Arthur carefully, hoping that his eyes could convey his wish for him to not _do anything stupid – _it hardly mattered though, as the King seemed to be frozen by some kind of enchantment

'I know I am,' Merlin replied with confidence, his head held high despite the pain.

'So be it,' was the cold reply.

Merlin had to think quick as he circled the Sorcerer until he had his back to the wall of the tower. At least then if he got hit, he wouldn't plunge over the parapet and to his death.

His magic coiled and writhed inside him, seeking escape – wanting to destroy the blackness that threatened to overtake. Merlin could hear the man murmuring. Rain dampened his hair rapidly as he tried to think of a counter spell, but he was so tired, that the words kept slipping away.

The sorcerer raised his hands to the black sky, sparks dancing at his fingertips as his words grew in strength.

'MERLIN, BLOODY DO _SOMETHING!_' Arthur bellowed, unsure as to why Merlin had yet to attack.

The noise was deafening, and Merlin's brain did not seem to want to function properly, obviously from the many days he had gone without sleep. Taking a deep breath, knowing he had to at least _try_, Merlin reached for the pulsating light that warmed the very core of his being and grasped it tightly. Eyes closed in concentration, he drew the golden strand outwards and when it finally came free, his eyes flew open with a flash.

_'hnæppest þéof eac lígræscetung!,'_

_'belúcan þes scinnlæce áflygennes!_

They bellowed together.

Hand vibrating as he struggled to force his power along the violet beam of light, Merlin felt ill. Sweat poured from his brow and his breaths became laboured very quickly.

The enchanted lightning pushed against his shield, prodding and searching for weakness.

Black crowded the edge of his vision as sounds began to fade out. He couldn't do it. He was too weak – too tired, to carry on.

His body tingled painfully now as his magic was pushed back, screaming and writhing at the deadly force. That was when his strength failed him. That was when the pain lanced through his body like a hundred burning knives – throwing him bodily against the wooden door and shattering it.

'MERLIN!' Arthur screamed in horror as the dark haired Warlock disappeared. Finally free from the spell that he was placed under the moment the sorcerer appeared, Arthur dashed through the remnants of the door, bare feet slipping on the soaked cobblestones.

Merlin was slumped against the wall, hair fluffed out in what would have been a comical manner, if it weren't for the smoke that rose from his singed tunic, or the way his limbs twitched spasmodically or the _smell _of burnt flesh.

Arthur crashed to his knees before the young man, who was blinking rapidly and reached out slowly with trembling hands.

'M-Merlin?' He called gently, afraid to touch the hurt man.

'H-he's. Gone.' Merlin gasped, his breath hitching between words. 'Stu-pid spe-ll b-backfired.'

'Can I...I mean, will my touch hurt you? I need to look you over.' Arthur asked quietly, feeling his eyes brimming.

'D-do _it_,' he hissed, arching and screwing his eyes shut against pain.

As Arthur's hand brushed the tunic, the blackened material fell away to reveal Merlin's once pale torso that was now marked with burns so severe that blood and pus seeped from the wounds.

The King swore under his breath, hands hovering above the damaged skin. He was no doctor, but even he could see that the damage could be fatal.

Arthur swallowed thickly, slowly meeting his friend's half-lidded gaze, positive that the warlock could see the fear in his expression.

'T-that bad, huh?' Merlin rasped, his fingers jolting sporadically.

Arthur clenched his jaw, not even tempted to lie, or cover his concern with an attempt at humour.

'Well, it definitely isn't good,' he admitted, pressing a palm to his chest. The movement was weak and uneven – racing, jumping and on occasion – stopping. Merlin's breath caught and his face screwed up in discomfort.

'I…' he tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come.

Instead he brought his quaking hand to his chest and covered Arthur's, gripping weakly.

'Merlin?' The King asked, voice hitching. 'What is it?'

Suddenly, his cobalt irises flashed gold intermittently before rolling back, revealing the whites of his eyes. The tremors in his body intensified as his torso lifted, back arching away from the wall and Arthur was _terrified. _

'Oh gods, _Merlin_...' he whispered, pressing a hand to his sweat sodden brow.

His eyes snapped back into focus, changing rapidly from blue to gold. 'R-run...' the young man managed to ground out through clenched teeth as sparks began to dance across his skin. 'RUN ARTHUR!'

A blue light enveloped him entirely and a ragged scream tore past his chapped lips as his magic surged forth, strong and fast.

An unpleasant tingling crept from Arthur's fingertips, sending painful shudders up his arms and into his chest – but he couldn't let go.

'M-_Merlin_!' The King gasped, squeezing his eyes shut against the onslaught.

His blonde hair stood on end as he continued to grip the seizing youth, determined not to let go of his injured friend.

Another guttural scream wrenched the young King's heart and he felt tears burn at his eyes.

'F-fight it!' Arthur growled, panting.

The wave of power pulsated and suddenly, Arthur was airborne – his stomach dropping as he soared weightlessly through the magically charged air.

He slammed bodily into the stone parapet, limbs jerking as darkness shrouded his vision. He reached out weakly, watching Merlin convulse violently in the corridor before pain washed over him, sending him into oblivion...

***~*M*~***

The return into consciousness was not kind to the young sorcerer – unbearable heat pulsated through his blood like he had been swallowed by a dragon's fire.

He cried out, tears carving tracks down his cheeks as his heart convulsed unevenly.

In the darkness, a calloused hand gripped his own, thumb brushing against his knuckles in a soothing manner.

'Merlin, c'mon mate – open your eyes...' came a gentle voice from above him.

It took some effort, but eventually he was able to crack his lids open, his vision swimming.

A blurred face hovered above his own, the large grin unable to hide the worry that shimmered in his deep, brown eyes.

'G-Gwaine?' he rasped, trying to swallow past the dryness. 'W-what happened?'

The knight rested his palm against Merlin's brow, and his smile dropped.

'You got fried mate...you were half dead when we found you.' He explained softly. 'You did quite a number on princess, too.'

Panicked, Merlin shot up too fast and cried out as the searing agony ripped through his chest.

'Whoa there mate, not so fast,' Gwaine warned, gripping his shoulder.

'Arthur...is he...' he swallowed again. 'Is he alright?'

'I'm fine, you idiot,' came a voice from nearby. 'Apart from a nasty headache and a sore back. Lay down.'

Allowing Gwaine to guide him down to the pillows, Merlin turned, relief washing over him as he saw the King perched upon Gaius's rocking chair but his stomach dropped as his eyes fell upon the stitched wound on his forehead.

'S-sorry...' Merlin wheezed, his heart thudding rapidly as his panic rose.

Arthur stood slowly, limping slightly as he approached.

'Calm down, it's alright...' the King soothed, dropping into a crouch by the young man. He cupped Merlin's cheek and swept the tears away with his thumb, offering a small smile. 'You did it, Merlin. You saved us...I owe you my life.'

'I-I could have killed you...' he murmured, his breath hitching against the pain. 'You should have run when I told you too...'

Arthur rolled his eyes. 'You may not be my servant anymore, Mer_lin_, but I still don't answer to you. Besides, there was no way I was going to leave you like that. Not ever.' He responded softly.

Merlin blinked rapidly, a tiny smile tugging at the edge of his lips. 'Thank you...prat.'

The King ruffled his raven mop affectionately. 'Now...you go back to sleep. You were awake for too long.'

'But-'

'_Rest, _Merlin – that's an order.'

'I...w-was n-n-never very good at f-following orders...'

But this was one order he had no intention of disobeying and as he closed his eyes, he could have sworn he heard Arthur let out a sob.

* * *

**Well? I enjoyed writing that one...I think I may do a part two to this one eventually. The next one is an idea I had from watching the exorcism of Emily Rose...so it WILL be a horror story. I will make sure it is as scary as possible! The chapter after goes to my mum, who prompted me a few months ago...how awesome is that? She loves my stories and has requested a 'training session' between Arthur and Merlin with a twist! Sneaky Merlin has been secretly training with Gwaine in his spare time and is ready to test out his new skills against an unsuspecting King. Who will win...**


	21. The Devil in the Flesh

**A/N: **

Hope you guys enjoy this one! I had this idea during a blackout and decided to write it down.

**I don't own Merlin **

**CHARACTERS: **Merlin, Arthur, Gaius & Knights (someone quite bad too)

**RATED: ** T

**GENRE: **Hurt/Comfort & Horror...probably a touch gory too

_Merlin is acting strangely, and Arthur tries to get to the bottom of it – but a dark force inhabits his loyal friend, killing him slowly for fun._

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**The Devil in the Flesh**

Arthur couldn't pinpoint the exact moment that the change occurred, but there had been a few instances in which the King could see that there was something terribly wrong with Merlin.

The first, were the dark smudges that sat beneath dull eyes, stark against the pallor of his skin – like it had been some time since the boy had slept. Secondly, was the change to his body; Usually on the unhealthy side of slim anyway, Arthur began to notice how much more his cheeks had hollowed out and the way his hip bones were visible through the material of his breeches. Lastly and possibly the most concerning, were the deep, bloody scratches down his arms that Arthur had noticed several days before, when the young man fainted from exhaustion during a training session. He had been ordered to take a week off at least and _eat_ something, but Merlin kept turning up every morning, dutifully serving his master and King.

Arthur was currently perched atop his desk, watching his friend move slowly around his chambers, picking up scattered clothes for washing.  
'You should take the rest of the day off,' the King said casually, noticing the stiffness in the boy's body.  
'If I wanted your opinion, I would have asked for it.' Merlin snapped in reply, shocking the young man to his feet.  
'Merlin...are you alright?'  
The youth sighed angrily, but continued his chores. 'None of your damn business _sire_.'  
Arthur frowned. This was something entirely different and somewhat concerning. He approached the young man slowly, hand out to offer comfort but from his crouch on the floor, Merlin jerked his head around, fixing the King with a glare so dark it made Arthur's skin crawl.  
'Touch me and I will pull your innards out with my teeth and send them to Guinevere along with your head. Now fuck off, can't you see I'm busy?'

Arthur flinched, concern for his friend slowly being replaced by an all consuming rage. With no effort at all, he pulled the waif to his feet by the lapel of his jacket and slammed him against the wall.  
'What the _hell_ has gotten into you?' Arthur demanded angrily.  
The youth grinned coldly. 'Funny you should ask,' he replied. 'You know, speaking of Gwenny, do you know she kissed me once? Right here?' Merlin puckered his lips and his grin widened. 'I could have fucked her, you know? That beautiful tawny skin –so soft and warm beneath my fingers as I pounded into her…those supple breasts in my face. I still may. I could force myself onto her – she wouldn't like it much, but I always did prefer a struggle, what do you think?'  
During his speech, Arthur could feel his blood boil, hatred bubbling within his gut. He wanted to grab his sword and run the traitorous bastard through right now, but he settled for slamming the youth's head against the stone instead. Gore splattered the wall behind him as the skin split, but instead of losing consciousness as Arthur expected, Merlin _giggled._  
Not the way a child giggles when they see something wondrous for the first time, but a maniacal giggle that sent shivers of fear down his spine. Merlin closed his eyes and leaned back, still chuckling darkly. When he opened them again, Arthur's breath caught in his throat. Black shrouded the entirety of his irises, so complete and utterly _evil_ that the King couldn't help but think his friend was no more.  
'No…he's still here,' not-Merlin assured as though he read his mind. 'Huddled in a corner of his mind, begging me like a _child_ to release him, but do you know what?' He reached out and gripped Arthur by the throat. 'I have been a prisoner for…such a _long_ time, and I am _bored._ I want to have some fun. You wanna see a trick?' He asked, grin widening as Arthur struggled to breathe. 'See…you can't hurt me – I can't hurt me, the only one who will feel the pain, is dear _Merlin.'_

Arthur tried to open his mouth to respond, but not-Merlin squeezed harder, his obsidian eyes cold and cruel.

'Seriously Arthur, I can guarantee that you will absolutely _love_ this!'

His eyes flashed a hypnotic crimson and he winked, his wicked smile broadening his lips as a cracking sound filled the King's chambers.

Arthur paled and looked down to see blood staining Merlin's blue tunic.

'That isn't even the best part...bye for now!'

Merlin took a great gasping breath and his hold upon the King loosened. The guttural scream that passed his lips just about tore Arthur's heart into pieces.

He crumpled at the knees, sinking boneless to the floor – lids fluttering.

The King caught him gently under the arms and slowed his descent. 'Merlin?' He asked, unsure.

The boy nodded slowly and peered up at Arthur, cobalt eyes glistening with tears.

'Please help me...' he whimpered pathetically, breathing laboured. 'It won't stop hurting me...'

The King rested his palm on the youth's pale neck. 'How long have you been like this? When did it start?' He asked gently.

Merlin choked back a sob and leaned forward, resting his brow on Arthur's shoulder. 'A little more than a month ago...' he replied shakily.

The King frowned. 'Why did you not tell me?'

'It wouldn't let me...It took my will. Arthur – what it said about Gwen, you have to believe me, I-'

'Shh, Merlin – I know.'

'You have to kill me, Arthur – I can't suffer at its hands anymore...'

Arthur allowed the first tears to fall as he stroked the blood matted hair at the nape of Merlin's neck.

'I won't...not unless we run out of options,' he whispered softly.

'Then you have to restrain me – and get it the hell out...you have to do it now Arthur, I'm fighting as hard as I can, but it's clawing its way back!'

The King didn't hesitate – he scooped the youth up and rushed over to his bed, settling him gently in the middle and straddling his hips, pushing down on his wrists.

'Use whatever force necessary.'

He gave his friend a short nod and called out to the guards.

As soon as they entered, Merlin began to struggle violently. Arthur strained to keep him pinned, his only advantage was that Merlin was severely malnourished.

'Get your fucking hands OFF me, mortal!' Not-Merlin growled, eyes flashing. The King backhanded him across the face and turned to the guards.

'Fetch Gaius and my most trusted knights immediately. Tell them I required plenty of sturdy rope and the strongest chains we possess. Hurry!'

The guards bowed, eyeing the thrashing boy warily before racing from the room.

'UNHAND ME!' The thing bellowed in a voice that most definitely did _not _belong to Merlin. Arthur shuddered and nearly fled as pure, unadulterated fear chilled his blood.

'Shut your filthy mouth, demon!' The king roared, hitting him again. It smiled, bloodstained teeth glinting in the light.

'Close, but not _exactly,_' he hissed. 'Now get _off _me, before I tear this meatsuit to shreds.'

'Shut...the _fuck_ up,' Arthur growled, his nails piercing the flesh of Merlin's wrists.

It tutted. 'Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh, wait...your mother's _dead_ isn't she? Such a shame too - I just bet she would have been so hot and wet, bouncing up and down on my hips like the filthy whore she wa-'

Before he even realised what he was doing, his fist pounded into the smirking face – over and over, feeling bones break and hot blood on his knuckles.

'That's right, Once and Future King – you keep hitting Merlin like that - but he won't be much use to me anymore and when I leave, I'll make sure there ain't much left to salvage,' It hissed, spitting a glob of blood to the side. As Merlin began to cackle once more, the door of his chambers burst open revealing his knights and a very flustered Physician, carrying the items he requested.

'What in God's-'

'DO NOT SPEAK HIS NAME!' It cried, emitting a gurgling sound from Merlin's throat.

'Who asked you!' Arthur spat, turning to the knights – who stared, in open-mouthed shock at the scene before them. 'Don't just stand there, I need HELP!'

Gwaine was the first to rush forward, followed closely by Percival – who held the chain's in his meaty arms.

Merlin hissed. 'Two's company, but three's a CROWD!'

The young knights flinched at the state Merlin was in, writhing and bucking beneath his King – bloodied teeth gnashing.

'We have to make it safe for Gaius to approach,' Arthur explained, punching Merlin again. 'Something has control of him, and if we can't get rid of it, we will have to kill Merlin...so I suggest you start tying him down!'

The thing in Merlin laughed. 'Bit sensitive this one,' he said, directing his words to Gwaine and jerking his head towards the man on top of him. 'Offer to fuck his wife and he damn near brains me! He should feel special that he has the heart of the _fairest_ in the land!'

Gwaine's eyes widened and he saw the muscle in Arthur's clenched jaw jump as he restrained himself. Merlin pouted. 'Oh come now Arthur! I was beginning to enjoy myself!'

Percival unwound the chains in his arms and nodded to Gwaine and Arthur in turn.

'Leon, I need you at the other side of the bed,' Percival instructed as Gwaine joined Arthur, taking one side each as he continued to trash. Gaius stood at the threshold, his face ashen.

'LET ME GO!'

Leon caught the chain easily and pulled it tight, careful to avoid Merlin's damaged ribs while keeping his arms pinned. He slid his end of the chain under the bed, and Percival followed suit.

Within minutes, it was securely bound, tight around Merlin's slim frame. This was when Gaius finally stepped into the room.

Merlin's black eyes narrowed. '_You_,' he hissed. 'You should leave right now old man...I told you I would not be as pleasant when we met next.'

Arthur, with his hands on his hips, met the Physicians gaze. 'What is he talking about – have you dealt with this thing before?' He asked.

'Indeed I have, sire...several times. Each of them did not end well, I'm afraid...'

Merlin grinned. 'Would you like to tell them or shall I?' he asked.

'God above, you are chatty,' Gaius snapped, opening his medicine bag and taking out a small vial of clear water.

'DO NOT SAY HIS NAME!'

'Shut up you wind bag,'

It growled, jerking beneath the chains.

'We are the ones who dwell within,' Merlin began, his voice harsh and deep.

Gaius rolled his eyes. 'Oh here we go...'

'I am the one who dwelt within CAIN!'

'I have heard this!'

'I am the one who dwelt within NERO!

Gaius reached back into his bag with an exasperated sigh and turned to Arthur, who was gripping the edge of the bed with white knuckles. 'Don't mind him, sire – he has a flair for the dramatic, as you have probably heard.'

With a triumphant cry, a revealed an old wooden crucifix.

'I once dwelt within JUDAS!'

'Do hurry up, I don't have all day,' Gaius muttered in a bored tone, as he unstoppered the vial.

'I was with Legion. I am Belial'

Arthur shuddered as Merlin's face contorted into a gruesome mask, his eyes flashing black and red.

'And I am Lucifer, the devil in the flesh.'

The King and knights took a step back in fear, but with a little book, his water and his crucifix – Gaius stepped bravely forward.

'I have exorcised you before, Satan – I can do it again,' Gaius warned, gripping his jaw in his hand. 'And I deal with the stubborn mule every time he gets ill and refuses to take his medicines, so cleansing you out shouldn't be an issue,'

The devil screamed as the water trickled down his throat. 'THEY ALL DIED WHEN I LEFT! What makes this whelp so different?'

Gaius bent down to his ear a smile upon his lips. 'He must have hidden it well,' he murmured, pressing the cross to his brow.

The flesh sizzled and smoked as Merlin's body thrashed. Gaius turned towards Arthur and gave him a smile.

'Could you just reach up and push in the canopy of your bed? It is on a hidden swivel – once you have done that, I will be ready,' he instructed.

A very confused Arthur did as he was told and his eyes widened as the panel flipped, revealing an intricately pentagram, surrounded by runes.

Merlin's eyes narrowed. 'You crafty old bastard,' he spat.

'Watch your mouth young man, or I will wash it out with holy water,'

Gaius opened his book and flicked through the pages.

'Goody, a bedtime story,' It said sarcastically.

'Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,' Gaius began, ignoring the cry of pain that came from Merlin's lips.

'Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, et secta diabolica,'

The boy began to convulse and shudder – grunts and screams bringing tears to Arthur's eyes.

'Ergo Draco maledicte et section. Ergo Draco maledicte et legio secta diabolica,'

The chains began to crack as Merlin thrashed in pain, his cries hysterical.

'Ut Ecclésiam tuam secúra tibi fácias servire libertáte, te rogámus, Audi nos!'

Merlin arched upwards and the chains gave way. As he screamed, a black cloud was expelled from his mouth and sucked into the chalk drawn pentagram. The windows shattered showering the knights with glass – and as quickly as it began, the maelstrom ceased.

The room was quiet save for the heavy breathing of the knights.

Merlin was still – his eyes closed and lips parted and for a moment, Arthur thought he was dead. He approached slowly, and sat on the edge of the bed, still wary.

'Merlin?' He called softly, resting a hand in his ruffled hair. 'You need to wake up.'

His brow furrowed and a low moan escaped as he peeled his lids apart.

'Ar-tur...I'm s-sorry...' he gasped, blinking rapidly.

'What for you moron? I'm the one who hit you,'

As he soothed the youth, Gaius set to work.

Setting Merlin's ribs was quite a task, but not far into the exercise, the boy lost consciousness. The Physician bound his chest tightly and assured the King that he would heal.

As soon as the wound on his head was stitched, the Knights went to pick Merlin up, ready to carry him to his room, but the King stopped him.

'He will stay here until he has recovered enough to move,'

No one argued.

One by one the Knights left, but Gaius was hesitant. He watched from the door as Arthur pulled his thick quilt up to the warlock's chin and smiled.

He needn't be worried.

Merlin would be safe under the watchful eye of his friend.

* * *

**Well, please tell me how I did! I had so much fun writing Merlin-as-Lucifer, and I do hope that nobody is too horrified – I mean, that WAS pretty whumpy. Next chapter goes to my mum! Please also note that 'I once dwelt in...' part, was part of the script of 'Exorcism of Emily Rose' which I also don't own, along with the exorcism that is used the most in Supernatural. **


	22. Knight at Heart

**A/N: **

This one goes to my dear mum, who has been really supportive of my slightly obsessive hobby, knowing that it is practice for my future novel. I really hope she enjoys this and I hope you guys do too! Beta'd by my mum!

Just a quick note – I will be editing all my chapters up to this point. I have found a lot of errors that came into being by general laziness. I should really get someone to proofread my work before I post!

**I don't own Merlin **

**CHARACTERS: **Merlin, Arthur & Knights

**RATED: ** K

**GENRE: **Humor

_What if Merlin had been secretly training with Gwaine behind the Kings back and surprises him in a training session?_

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**Knight at Heart**

The noon sun beat down, its searing rays assaulting the tourney ground with a shimmering heat. It was really quite warm to be training, but the Knights of Camelot knew better than to question their King, so when they were summoned to meet Arthur that morning, they were all obediently silent, apart from Gwaine – who was nursing a hangover from the night before.

Merlin was perched upon a wooden bench, as far out of the sun as he could manage, clutching his practice helmet beneath his arm. He had been waiting for this day for quite a while, and he couldn't help the grin that stretched across his lips as he remembered Gwaine's supportive speech.

After a horrific incident in which Merlin was severely injured during a raid, the ruffian had decided that it was time for the young servant to be able to defend himself, and so the private tutoring began.

The pair had made a mutual agreement that the King did not need to know of the training – choosing instead to surprise him when his skill level had risen.

For several months, twice a day, Merlin met Gwaine at the clearing in which he often spoke to the Great Dragon, and they would spend an hour going through the intricate moves of swordplay.

It was slow to begin with, Merlin not being as fit as he should have been – but after several weeks of training, his scrawny form was slowly being replaced by taut, ropey muscles.

Every morning before dawn, they would stretch to warm their bodies up, before Gwaine sent him to run laps around the clearing.

Slowly, his clumsy tendencies began to diminish, his steps becoming surer and his movements graceful – but Arthur did not notice, which suited Merlin fine – he wasn't prepared to be noticed at that point.

Now, after three months of rigorous training and many bruises, Gwaine announced that he was finally ready to face the King, grinning stupidly from his sprawled position on the ground, Merlin's training sword at his throat.

Merlin took a deep breath as Arthur approached with the Knights, helm upon his head and sword at the ready.

'Ok men, pair off ! I want to see some spectacular fighting today – no slacking off!' He turned to the young manservant, who stood slowly, trying not to show his eagerness. 'Merlin, you're with me.'

He traipsed over to the King, catching Gwaine's eye as he did – noting the wink and barely concealed smile from beneath his scruffy beard.

His anticipation was building as he settled into a basic defensive stance, legs slightly parted, shoulders aligning perfectly with his feet. His grip upon the hilt was sure and firm as he watched Arthur carefully, determining his first move.

'Where's your shield, _Mer_lin?' The king asked in a patronizing tone, twirling his sword in an attempt to distract the youth.

Merlin shrugged. 'I don't think I'll use it today, sire,' he responded casually.

Arthur asked no more questions. If Merlin was feeling confident today, he would soon change that – with minimal bodily harm if possible.

The king lunged forward swinging his sword in a wide arc, before changing his attack at the last minute; however Merlin had been anticipating the move. He had watched his friend fight for long enough to know his tricks, and with a deft flick of his wrists, brought his own blade down to block the attack on his chest.

Through the slits in his helmet, Merlin saw the King's eyes narrow suspiciously before he swung his sword at the youth's head.

Merlin ducked gracefully, turning under the blow and placing himself behind the unsuspecting King.

'A bit out of shape today sire?' The youth asked casually, noticing the other Knights had stopped sparring to watch the flustered King and his wayward servant.

Arthur growled, pivoting on one foot to face the boy – who wore a lopsided grin on his elfin face. His cheeks were flushed red, from the heat or embarrassment, Merlin didn't know – but his brow was furrowed in concentration as he began to attack wildly, hoping to take advantage of the boy's clumsiness.

Only...the clumsiness seemed to have all but fled the servant's lean body. Arthur noticed, as Merlin parried every thrust, that he seemed stronger, lighter on his feet.

The young King couldn't help but be mildly impressed as the youth matched his assaults with enthusiasm and a mild semblance of skill.

'Don't get too cocky, _Mer_lin – that is what will get you killed,' Arthur said breathily as Merlin's onslaught drove him back. Talking would distract the young man, and that was what he was hoping for.

'Good thing _cocky_ is not my strong suit...that's your speciality,' Merlin quipped, removing his helmet quickly and tossing it aside. It was now becoming difficult to see with the sweat rolling from his brow.

Arthur took this as an opportunity to disarm the young man and as the blade slammed to the cross guard of Merlin's sword, his right hand lost its grip.

This was not an entirely bad thing in Merlin's case, for not only was he trained by a Knight, he was trained by the tavern drunkard – who didn't think the day was done until it ended with a good brawl.

He wouldn't let Arthur win. Not this time. Merlin needed to prove to his master that he was not lazy _or _incompetent – but someone he could rely on when things got rough.

Twirling his sword with his left hand, he feinted forward with the weapon and as expected – the King fell for it. That's when Merlin threw the right hook.

Arthur's helmet clanged and he stumbled back several steps, a look of utter bewilderment adorning his aquiline features. Merlin grinned wolfishly and settled back into his defensive stance, daring the King to match him. With a huff, Arthur divested himself of the protective headwear and raced forward with a cry. The young manservant stood his ground and waited. This would decide the fight – and he was saving the best for last.

Arthur's bulky form barrelled closer, his sword held in a grip far too tight and at the right moment Merlin shifted imperceptibly, grasping the King's bicep as he passed. His fist connected solidly with Arthur's solar plexus, and the sword fell from his fingers, landing in the dry grass.

Still holding Arthur's arm, Merlin kicked him in the back of the knee, forcing him to the grass, sword pressed against his throat.

There was silence for a moment, before Gwaine whooped with glee.

'Well done, Merlin! I knew you could do it!' Pride laced his words as he raced forward.

That was when the other Knights began to cheer, following after Gwaine to congratulate the young man who had finally learnt how to defend himself.

Arthur climbed to his feet slowly, groaning in pain as he clutched his side.

'Merlin! What the hell was _that_!' He demanded, his face pale and sweaty. For a moment, Merlin thought his victory would end with a night in the stocks, until Arthur's face broke out into a giant grin. 'I'm _impressed_.' He admitted proudly, clapping him on the shoulder. 'Your form was perfect and you didn't allow me to distract you. You watched me the whole time and anticipated my every move, just like a knight! How long have you been training?'

Merlin blushed, the tips of his ears going red at his master's positive appraisal. He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly. 'Sir Gwaine and I have been at it for three months. We didn't want to tell you until I was good enough to make an impression.'

The King draped an arm around his shoulder and together they walked to the benches in the shade.

With a more serious expression, Arthur turned to the youth. 'What brought it on?' He inquired, sitting down beside Merlin.

'When I nearly died in that raid...both Gwaine and I decided that it was time I learnt to defend myself. I don't want to be a burden to you when we go out on patrol. I'll probably be quieter on hunt's too...If I feel like it,' Merlin grinned. 'But I have a responsibility to you, as my King and my friend, to protect you – and now I am as capable as any Knight.'

Arthur softened and gave him a small smile, before dragging him into a headlock and grinding his knuckle into Merlin's scalp.

The youth laughed and pushed him away, his cobalt eyes twinkling with amusement as they met Arthur's.

'You know, I _will_ deny this until my last breath if you ever utter it to another living soul – but I'm proud of what you have become. You are loyal and brave and selfless...a true Knight of Camelot,' the young King admitted softly.

Merlin's grin widened. 'You think so?' he asked eagerly.

Arthur chuckled. 'Yes, you _idiot_...now get back to my chambers, they need cleaning, my boots need polishing, my clothes need washing...'

At this point in time, Merlin had phased out – ignoring the King as he walked. The man could be a downright prat sometimes, but it was nice to know that if Arthur got on his nerves, he had the ability to put him on his arse.

* * *

**I hope that was enough to satisfy! Next one goes to a guest who has requested a not-so-powerless Merlin, as it was unspecific – It will contain whump!Arthur and BAMF!Merlin**


	23. The Kings Protector

**A/N: **

This one is for an anonymous guest, who has requested a not so powerless Merlin...so this one will feature Whump!Arthur and BAMF!Merlin

This is in the same universe as the previous chapter – so Merlin has had his training with Gwaine...

**I don't own Merlin **

**CHARACTERS: **Merlin & Arthur

**RATED: ** T

**GENRE: **Hurt/Comfort & Friendship

_Arthur gets injured by bandits and Merlin doesn't like it..._

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**The Kings Protector **

The patrol ended as every other had in their vast experience – badly. Separated from the Knights, Arthur and Merlin raced through the trees, branches scratching and bruising as they whipped exposed skin.

Despite his recent bout of rigorous training, Merlin felt his calf muscles burning with exertion, sweat dripping from his brow as adrenaline pumped through his system.

He and Arthur were neck and neck, weaving through the woods and leaping over logs, aware of the battle cries that indicated the bandits were gaining on them. They exchanged a quick glance, blue eyes conveying their mild panic as the thundering footfalls of their pursuers grew louder.

'We should split up,' Arthur panted heavily, his chainmail hanging heavy upon his broad frame and slowing him down. 'It may confuse them.'

The young manservant fixed him with a surly glare and shook his head. 'I don't think so _sire_...I'm not leaving you to be knocked around by _those_ guys,' he responded.

The King rolled his eyes, feigning frustration, but the small smile tugging at his lips told Merlin that his friend was grateful for the company.

'Besides,' Merlin continued, flashing him a wild grin, 'I am not as much of a helpless, bumbling idiot as I used to be.'

He patted the sword that was sheathed at his slim hip – a gift that was commissioned by Arthur himself and forged by Sir Elyan several weeks ago.

Such a beautiful weapon it was too – with perfect balance and a sharp blade, it had become a part of him...and he was almost excited that he may get to use it for the first time.

However, Merlin's excitement was short lived, as was usually the way of things, when a pained grunt brought his mind back to the present.

Looking back, his cobalt orbs widened and he skidded to a stop, almost losing his balance and toppling over a fallen tree.

Arthur was lying face down in the dirt, blood dribbling from somewhere beneath his hair – but Merlin's eyes where quickly drawn towards the shaft of a crossbow bolt, protruding grotesquely from the King's back.

'No...' he muttered as the bandits began to slow, circling the young man with their weapons drawn. 'NO!'

With renewed energy, Merlin dashed towards his fallen friend, unsheathing his sword as he skidded the last few yards on his knees.

The lead bandit stepped forth, a sick grin upon his scarred face. 'What do you think yer up to little whelp? Yer no match for us – just be on yer way while we deal with yer master...consider it yer freedom!'

Merlin narrowed his eyes and shielded Arthur's body with his own – his grip tightening upon his sword.

'You stay away from him.' The youth growled, anger boiling his blood as the men stepped closer. 'I'm warning you – turn around and walk away.'

The bandits laughed coldly, their weapons glinting in the sunlight. 'Or what? Yer nothing but a servant! You wouldn't know which end of that sword went where!'

Merlin sneered and climbed to his feet, automatically falling into a defensive stance.

'Oh I have a few idea's of where to put the pointy end, but I don't think you'd be too fond of any of them.' He retorted, twirling the weapon with a deft flick of his wrist.

The grins dropped from the bandit's faces at the threat and they advanced; ten bandits against the King's gangly manservant. They thought they had good odds.

Merlin knew otherwise.

'One last chance...leave or die.' The youth snarled, his heart pounding in fear.

They showed no sign of retreating, and Merlin shrugged. He had given them a choice. He'd given them _several _warnings. What they weren't aware of, was Merlin's fierce and unyielding loyalty towards his King and friend. Nobody would harm him and live to tell the tale...Merlin would die before that happened.

So with a mighty roar, Merlin charged – head bowed and shoulders forward, watching the bandit carefully as he approached with speed. The intention was clear, and that was what Merlin was waiting for. At the last minute, as the leader leant down to grab him, he dove to the side and rolled into his landing, finding his feet quickly and slashing his sword across the bandits back.

The man cried out in pain and turned quite quickly for a man of his build, murder written in his features.

Merlin gave him a cheeky smile and shrugged. 'Lucky me!'

The man lashed out clumsily with his broadsword, but Merlin dodged easily, managing to impale another bandit who was creeping up behind him.

'You will pay for your insolence with your life!'

Ducking and weaving, Merlin eluded his attackers. While they were more experienced with their weapons, he still had several advantages.

The first, obviously, was his magic, which he used silently – heating up swords and dropping tree boughs upon the sneaky ones. The second; was that his friend was hurt and he was _furious_. Rage simmered beneath his skin, and it fuelled him as he continued to evade and attack – the intense adrenaline rush helping to numb the pain from the hits he had taken.

Using his lean and wiry build, he managed to avoid a hit that would have opened a nasty gash across his chest, and using the momentum of his graceful turn, he drove his sword through the leader, killing him instantly.

Those left standing stared at the wild eyed boy, who stood tall in the middle of the carnage, his chest heaving as he wiped his bloody sword against his breeches.

'Are we done here?' He asked casually, tearing the hem from his tunic to wrap around a jagged wound that marred his forearm. Merlin pulled the material tight without a wince and sheathed his sword.

The remaining bandits fled.

The young man sighed wearily, running a trembling hand through sweat soaked locks as he knelt by Arthur.

And laughed in relief.

The crossbow was imbedded in the Kings armour, but it had not pierced his flesh.

The daft clotpole had knocked himself out on a rock as the impact against his armour sent him sprawling.

Merlin carefully removed the arrow (he would be the one to repair the armour after all) and rolled the King over, pleased to see a pair of cerulean eyes blinking owlishly at him.

'Merlin? W-what happened?' He asked softly, bringing a hand up to his brow, winching as his fingers brushed the wound.

'You knocked yourself out,' he replied with a grin, waving the bolt in front of Arthur's face 'I thought they got you.'

The King frowned and looked around, noticing the bodies littered around the clearing. His eyes widened.

'You didn't...' he said disbelievingly.

Merlin's grin widened. 'I did.'

'How...why?'

That was when the smile faltered and Merlin exhaled shakily. 'I was angry..._furious_, in fact. I thought they had hurt you and...and I made them pay.' He replied quietly, looking away in shame. He had just _killed_ all these men. All because he was angry.

'Hey,' Arthur said gently, sitting up and gripping his shoulder. 'Thank you Merlin...for your loyalty and your friendship. I grew up to be a very different man because of you and for that – I am grateful. Now come on, you idiot – you're bleeding all over me, Gaius needs to give us both a once over, and you...' The King crinkled his nose in disgust. '_You_ really need a bath...you smell like a dead wilddeoren.'

Merlin nodded and stood, swaying on his feet as the exhaustion of his battle finally caught up with him. He cradled his bloody arm to his chest and took a deep breath as a wave of dizziness washed over him.

'Merlin?' Arthur implored softly, gripping his bicep. 'Are you ok?'

_Breathe...breathe_...he ordered himself as he closed his eyes. He was about to nod and tell Arthur that he was fine, but he really wasn't.

He had just killed seven men, not with his magic, but with a blade. His arm was bleeding profusely and he didn't get a chance to eat that morning...he was decidedly _not _ok.

Merlin didn't even feel Arthur catch him as he pitched forward into darkness.

***~*M*~***

When Merlin opened his eyes sometime later, he found that he was shrouded by Camelot red – lying at the base of an enormous tree with his pack as a pillow. A fire warmed the quiet clearing, warding off the darkness of the night.

'Arthur?' He croaked, his eyes searching the trees for his friend – panic rising slightly when there was no immediate sight of him.

'Ah, finally awake – here, drink.' Arthur ordered, coming into view with his water skin unstoppered.

Merlin gulped the fresh water greedily, grateful for the coolness in his throat.

'How's the head?' Merlin asked - his voice less raspy now. 'You hit it on a rock.'

The King smiled and handed him a roughly hewn bowl filled with a delicious smelling stew. 'I'll live – I was a little more concerned about you.' He admitted as he watched his slim manservant wolf down the food.

The dark haired youth shrugged. 'I guess I was just tired...perhaps I got hurt more than I realised – I was a little preoccupied at the time.' Merlin replied, setting the bowl aside once he ate his fill.

Arthur's face morphed into a more serious expression as he tucked his cloak tighter around Merlin, studiously ignoring the fact that the boy was grinning inanely at his ministrations.

'One may think that you cared, should they arrive right now.' Merlin said cheekily.

The King avoided his gaze as he stopped what he was doing and sat beside the youth. 'You _were_ hurt more than you realised, you idiot. It took forever to slow the bleeding. One of the bandits got you under the ribs with a dagger.'

Merlin frowned. Surely he would remember the pain of being _stabbed_?

'You're sure?' He asked stupidly.

Arthur glared at him. 'Yes, I'm sure _Mer_lin...I cleaned and wrapped it after all.'

'I'm alive though – so that's an upside.' The youth replied, his eyes drooping with exhaustion.

'You should have run...you shouldn't have fought. Yes, you are no longer useless, but...you could have been killed Merlin, and I don't-' Arthur's breath hitched and Merlin turned to him, shocked to see tears in the King's cerulean eyes. 'My pride can no longer hinder my true feelings – we are grown men Merlin, and I have never had a friend for whom I would willingly give up my life and _kill_ for, until you came along. If I lost you...'

Arthur trailed off and looked away, oblivious to the soft smile on Merlin's lips.

'You know I feel the same, Arthur – which is why I fought for you...' the young man said through a yawn before allowing his eyes to close. 'I am happy to be your servant until the day I die.'

The king looked back towards Merlin and sighed at his reckless loyalty. Twining his hand through Merlin's raven mop, he too closed his eyes.

'I know, old friend...I know.'

* * *

**I hope the ending wasn't **_**too**_** fluffy...there weren't enough of these moments in the series and we all love them! Next one goes too Dark Angel64 – who has requested another "**_**what if**_**" to Aithusa...What if Arthur followed Merlin out to the clearing and sees the dragon hatch? I haven't been well and reviews make me feel better...hint hint**


	24. Two Sides of the Same Coin

**A/N: **

This is for DarkAngel64 – I hope you guys enjoy!

**I don't own Merlin **

**CHARACTERS: **Merlin & Arthur

**RATED: ** T

**GENRE: **Hurt/Comfort & Angst

_Arthur follows Merlin & sees Aithusa hatch._

* * *

**THE ADVENTURES OF MERLIN**

**Two Sides of the Same Coin.**

The King strode down the corridor leading to the Physician's Chambers, head held high and determined for once, not to let his pride get in the way.

What he and the Knights did to Merlin, although in jest, was inexcusable. In the end, he had been given the food and he grinned sheepishly – but the look of hurt in his cobalt orbs did not escape the King's attention, and he intended to make amends for it.

Arthur was about to begin the trek up the spiralling staircase that led to the chambers, when the door opened, spilling golden candlelight across the grey stone walls.

'You be careful, Merlin.' He heard Gaius warn. 'If you are caught...I will truly fear for you.'

Arthur frowned, confused by the conversation. What could Merlin be up to that could warrant such obvious concern from the old Physician?

Merlin chuckled. 'You worry too much, Gaius. Arthur is probably tucked up in his big warm bed, dreaming of Guinevere becoming his Queen...he will not know until I decide the time is right.'

The King scowled in the shadows and pressed himself against the wall. So Merlin had a secret, did he? A small part of Arthur found it hard to believe that Merlin was capable of hiding anything from him, but when Merlin passed his hiding place, eyes flickering anxiously as he clutched his tattered satchel protectively to his chest, the King grew suspicious.

With a speed and grace that belied his usual clumsiness, Merlin loped across the courtyard – using the shadows and walls very skilfully to avoid detection.

Arthur could feel his anger rising as he trailed quite a distance behind his sneaky manservant, his refined hunting skills assisting to conceal his presence.

The dark haired youth slipped through the city gates undetected, and Arthur made a brief mental note to train his guards further. A mix of both fury and curiosity rushed through the King as he followed Merlin into the forest, surprised that he had not yet fallen over his ridiculously coltish legs. The slightly vindictive side of the King hoped he would.

But Merlin stayed upright as he continued through the trees, and at one point – when Arthur caught a glimpse of his face in the pale moonlight, the King could have sworn he saw that inane grin of his plastered across his lips.

Finally, after thirty minutes of quiet following (Arthur refused to call it stalking) the trees thinned out, revealing a moonlit clearing...the same clearing in which he killed the Great Dragon all those years ago.

So what in the world was Merlin doing out here at this time of night?

The King frowned as he crouched in the bushes, watching the youth reach slowly into his satchel and...

'You lying little bastard...' Arthur hissed, rage consuming him as he clenched his fist by his sides. He watched in silent anger, as the traitor placed the egg gently upon a tree stump and stepped back – looking up at the cloudless sky.

_'O Drakon!_' He roared in a voice not quite his own, sending shivers of fear and awe through the King's tense body. _'E male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!'_

Arthur paled as the air itself thrummed with power, magic and _something_ he couldn't quite put his finger on...until he saw the vast wingspan of the beast, blotting out the silvery moon as it swooped into the clearing and landed heavily upon the hard ground.

_Liar! _

A heavy sense of betrayal settled upon the King's heart as he crept closer to the traitor, who stood tall and unmoving before the dragon he supposedly killed.

'Is it still alive?' Merlin asked the creature, his voice unsure and slightly pained.

_It shouldn't be!_

'It can live for a thousand years,' the male voice replied, startling the young royal with its resonating voice.

Much to Arthur's surprise, Merlin laughed with relief. 'So you are no longer the last of your kind.'

The dragon chuckled and bowed its golden head. 'It would seem not.'

There was a moment of silence as the youth eyed the pale egg. 'When will it hatch?'

'Young dragons where called into the world by the Dragonlords. Only they had the power to summon them from the egg. As the last Dragonlord, this solemn duty falls to you, Merlin.' He explained.

Arthur's eyes widened. _Merlin? A Dragonlord?_

'How do I summon it?' He asked quietly, stepping closer to the egg.

'You must give the dragon a name...'

The King heard Merlin take a deep breath and the power that he felt before trickled through his blood once more.

'_Aithusa_,' Merlin muttered deeply, his voice rich and ancient.

Arthur heard the unmistakeable sound of an egg cracking, the shell falling apart upon the stump. A small white head appeared with a quiet gurgle and Merlin stepped forward.

'A white dragon is indeed a rare thing...and fitting - for in the dragon tongue, you have named him after the Light of the Sun.' The Great Dragon explained to the now snivelling boy. Arthur's heart began to beat faster, a sense of loss and hurt claiming his soul. 'No dragon birth is without meaning - sometimes the meaning is hard to see, but this time I believe it is clear...The white dragon bodes well for Albion...for you and Arthur and for the land you will build together.'

Arthur's head snapped up at the mention of his name. He wiped his eyes roughly; unaware that tears had began to fall.

The entire shell had fallen away, revealing the tiny white dragon, standing upon the stump with its new wings spread like a sentinel – and Arthur had to admit, that it did not look remotely threatening. He quickly shook his head to banish the thought from his mind. This was a creature of magic and magic was _evil_.

It had killed his mother and father both, and stolen his sister from him. It was _unforgivable_.

He watched as the baby dragon first nudged Merlin affectionately, as a gentle as a kitten, before loping clumsily to the older dragon, which chuckled gently as it climbed up its back – still too young to fly.

'We will take our leave, young Warlock – for it is not safe to linger. I have a feeling we will meet again shortly.' It said before leaping into the air, the wind from its heavy wings buffeting the trees.

Arthur stood, fists clenched with a rage he had never felt, boiling his blood.

'You bastard.' He growled, stepping into the clearing. Merlin turned quickly, his eyes widening as the King approached.

'A-Arthur?'

Merlin took a step back, fear flashing in his cobalt orbs. 'I-I can explain...'

'TRAITOR!' Arthur roared, running at the boy and slamming him heavily to the ground. 'I trusted you!'

The first hit resounded throughout the clearing and Arthur's knuckles stung with the force of it. Sweat dripped from his brow as he gripped Merlin's neckerchief – pulling it tight, before slamming the boy's head down. It bounced heavily off the stump that the egg had just hatched upon, but Arthur's rage was too great to register it. He didn't see the dazed and pleading look in those wide, fearful eyes – and he didn't hear the quiet voice of Merlin begging him to listen.

He just struck out over and over, allowing his rage to fuel him as he beat the youth beneath him.

'Get up.' He ordered as he stood, watching Merlin cringe through the blood on his face. Several moments passed and Arthur realised that he wasn't going to obey, and that only served to anger him further. He lashed out with a booted foot and caught the boy in the ribs. 'I SAID GET UP!'

He grunted in pain and rolled over, trying to find his feet. Merlin eventually stood, a bony arm wrapped across his midsection as he gazed at Arthur with a deep sadness in his eyes.

'I'm s-sorry...' he gasped through the blood at his lips. 'I'm so sorry...'

Tears spilled from his eyes Arthur's face hardened. 'I don't want your apologies, sorcerer – I want your _death_.' He spat, pulling a dagger from his boot and stepping towards the youth.

'No...' Merlin whispered, swallowing convulsively. 'Please...I'm your friend.'

'YOU ARE NOT! YOU ARE A TRAITOR!' Arthur cried, gripping the boy by the shoulder and driving the blade into his gut. Merlin grunted in pain and surprise, his eyes wide as they met Arthur's. The king pushed the dagger as deep as it could go and followed the youth as he fell to his knees.

'You have betrayed me and it can never be forgiven.' Arthur hissed, twisting the knife and yanking it out roughly. Merlin whimpered, gasping as hot blood spilled from his lips. The pain was white hot in his gut and his heart as his vision wavered, but he could not die without Arthur seeing first.

'A-Arthur...' he wheezed, meeting the cold gaze of his master and with the little strength he had remaining, raised his arms and gripped Arthur's face with bloody fingers. 'Y-you...need to...see.'

He closed his eyes briefly and pulled the struggling King forward until their brows were touching. When Merlin opened his eyes again, they shone gold.

Arthur tried to pull away as his mind was assaulted with images and intense emotions.

He saw Merlin, time and time again..._saving his life._

The knife thrown by the sorceress, Valiant, the beautiful blue orb in the cave full of spiders.

_I am happy to be your servant until the day I die..._

Image upon image flashed through his mind, accompanying the feelings of love, hate, sorrow, heartbreak and pain that emanated from the youth before him.

Everything Merlin had done – he did for Arthur and Camelot...for a world without suffering and death, where everyone was accepted.

Arthur's heart thudded painfully against his ribcage and he inhaled deeply as the images suddenly ceased, leaving him breathless.

He pulled away slowly, suddenly aware of Merlin's loosening grip as he fell backwards.

Arthur caught him around the shoulders and slowed his descent, tears glistening in his eyes as the youth shuddered in pain. The king assessed the damage that he caused and was almost sick.

'Oh _gods_ Merlin...I-I'm so sorry,' he whispered thickly, his voice heavy with emotion. 'You've done nothing but save my life...'

'A-Arthur...' Merlin gasped, gripping Arthur's tunic with bloody fingers. 'I forgive you...'

His lids fluttered as the King pressed his hand to the bleeding wound. 'Shh...save your strength Merlin. I have to get you to Gaius.'

Merlin smiled bloodily as he stared up at the stars.

'Kilgarrah is coming...' he breathed as a shadow crossed the moon. Arthur gripped his hand tightly as the dragon landed and dropped to his haunches.

'Arthur Pendragon...we finally meet.' The dragon greeted, although his tone was cold and disapproving. 'You have done much damage this day, _King_. '

Arthur swallowed convulsively as Merlin's eyes slid closed, his hands falling from Arthur's chest.

'M-Merlin?' he ventured shakily, his trembling hand resting upon the youth's brow. More tears spilled, unbidden as he stared up at the dragon. 'C-can you save him?' He implored.

Kilgarrah blinked his large golden eyes and nudged the youth with his snout. 'He is close to death, Pendragon. I can bring him from the brink and heal him partially, but I do not have the strength to bring him to full health. I will give this gift, but you must do the rest. To prove your worth – you must tend to him without assistance. You owe that to the last Dragonlord.'

Arthur frowned. 'But I have no medical training! I could do –'

The Great Dragon growled. 'You have harmed him so much already; I doubt you could do any worse.'

The King stepped away and wiped his face as Kilgarrah breathed upon the youth, bathing him with golden light. It took only several moments, and the dragon stepped away with a huff.

'I was able to heal the internal damage made from the blade, as well as the wound inside his head – that is all I can do for him...the rest is up to you young Pendragon. His life is still in danger, but I trust that you will only heal now. Goodbye, Once and Future King...and let it be known – if you harm the boy again, I will not hesitate to tear you limb from limb...even if it means the fall of Albion.'

Arthur gulped, as he took his place by Merlin and opened his mouth to swear an oath to the ancient creature, but he was already gone.

***~*M*~***

Merlin regained consciousness slowly, aware of only pain and heat. He gave an involuntary grown and opened his eyes, flinching upon seeing Arthur hovering above him.

The young king held his hands up in surrender as he crouched slowly by his friend.

'How do you feel?' He asked softly, reaching out to brush his raven locks from his brow.

The warlock swallowed dryly and closed his eyes.

'Sore...and tired.' He responded truthfully, licking his lips.

Arthur pressed a damp cloth to Merlin's cheek, and gave him a small smile when the youth opened his eyes again.

'You nearly killed me...' he said sadly, unable to stop the tears from falling as his breaths came quickly.

The King looked away in shame and guilt as the boy trembled. 'I know...and I'm sorry.' He said softly.

Merlin nodded. 'Please...don't feel guilty. I forgive you.'

Arthur looked at him with tears in his eyes and brought a hand up to cup his cheek. 'I don't deserve your forgiveness...You have saved my life so many times...and this is how I repay you – I didn't even listen to you...I was blinded by rage and you nearly died. Words cannot-'

'Shut up, prat.' Merlin said with a soft chuckle, wincing when the movement pulled at his stomach wound.

The King offered a small smile, searching Merlin's eyes for any sign of fear or distrust – but only found loyalty and love. The love of a true friend.

'I lied to you for a long time, although I had my reasons...I do not blame you for your reaction, although I hoped you wouldn't be so rough.'

Arthur wiped his eyes and sat back on his heels. 'I will understand if you wish to leave Camelot – what I did to you is unacceptable...'

Merlin reached across the dirt and gripped Arthur's hand tightly.

'I have told you many times, you stubborn arse – I am happy to be your servant until the day I die...so shut up, because my head is killing me and you're making it worse.' He chided softly.

He looked to his manservant and shook his head. 'You are far too loyal Merlin – one of your many faults.'

Merlin flashed him a grin. 'Ah yes, but at least I'm not a clotpole.' He responded.

Arthur returned the smile and draped his cloak over the youth. 'Now, get some sleep...I need to make you better, or suffer the wrath of your dragon. He is one over-protective lizard,'

He received no response, but didn't expect too. Merlin was fast asleep and healing slowly – and as Arthur watched the rise and fall of his chest, he swore he would never lay a finger on his friend again.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think? Yes I know – I whumped Merlin again. I can't help it...reviews make my day! The next prompt goes to kiki1607, who has requested an AU tag to 5x08 - a non-whump guilty Arthur one-shot were Arthur asks Merlin who his "girl" is and Merlin mentions Freya subtly. **


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